In Due Time
by hotahmai
Summary: Previously Supernatural. A journal definitely should not cause this much trouble. Then again, it's pretty far from normal - just like where it came from. Time traveling drama ensues as Mia Gordon, a young woman from the future, tries to sort of her life, her sanity, and how an arrogant, pain-in-the-ass demon fits into it. So far, it's not going too well. [ Seb/OC; slowmance ]
1. One

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A book should not be this much trouble.

Black, French-tipped fingernails moved effortlessly across the keys of her piano, as the woman tried exceptionally hard not to glare at the small, hand-written journal on the coffee table.

It was taunting her, really.

_Property of Ciel Phantomhive,_ was inscribed onto the hardcover.

Talk about an extremely elaborate prank by some die-hard fans. She, herself, was one who was ( at least, currently ) apart of the craze that was Black Butler. Only a small handful of pages from the extremely popular Manga ( and now, anime ) had been read. It seemed interesting enough, but between finishing up college, job-hunting, and working on some lyrics, it had been relatively untouched.

No one ever mentioned how utterly ridiculous it was being an "adult". All the stress, bills, expectations. She doesn't recall there being a class on how to manage money ( sorely needed ), or how much debt she was going to be in thanks to student loans, and god-awful interest rates, among a million other things.

So, of course, amidst the horrors of no longer being a child, the journal just shows up – quite literally – in her apartment. It's definitely nothing she checked out of the library, or found around the apartment complex. There were a few people in the building who seemed to enjoy the series, given their paraphernalia.

Technically it was possible this was….some type of collector's item.

But that didn't explain how it got into her apartment, or the literal pull she felt toward it; as if it was inviting her to read it's contents.

_Don't be stupid_, she mentally chided herself, _inanimate objects do not have agendas!_

Pulling her thoughts away from the damnable thing, she tried to return to the keys laid out before her, only to find the melody that had been in her head had completely vanished, like smoke.

Damnit.

Although Mia often worked odd jobs, it was really the liberal arts that drew her, much to the chagrin of her family. Their daughter aspiring to be a songwriter didn't exactly inspire much enthusiasm, though they didn't pester her about it- too much, anyway. There was still the occasional call that revolved around other opportunities, which made sense.

It wasn't exactly an easy industry to break into, with so much competition. There was a back-up plan, sort of.

Ten percent of a back-up plan, which still counted for something, didn't it?

Beside her, the glass of wine she had shook a little.

Oh, right. That was another thing.

Ever since she found the stupid thing, little weird shit had been happening. Nothing serious ( like ghosts hell-bent of revenge, or dangerous like the walls caving in ), but sometimes things moved. At first, she thought it was just forgetfulness, seeing as she had a horrible attention span.

But, it was happening too frequently. Particularly, these minor things seemed to happen when it seemed like she was about to open the journal, before deciding against it. Frankly, it was like the journal was taking personal offense to not being opened, and was reacting like a spoiled brat.

Except, you know, other than the fact that books of any sort didn't do that.

Groaning, her face fell in her hands, fingers threading into long, dark hair. She could try to get rid of it, but damn if she wasn't at least a little bit curious as to what was inside it, and why it seemed to act so childish.

Funny, this is like a set up to a really bad horror movie.

_And this would be the point in it when I yell at the main character to stop being a fucking idiot, and not do whatever is they are about to do_.

Pale blue eyes flickered toward the coffee table, and narrowed.

The table moved, half an inch.

_Goddamn it._

"Alright, alright, you win! Are you happy?" Shoving away from the piano, the seat scratched the floor slightly with the force of her irritation. Brushing back long, fallen bangs from her face, she scowled, before picking up her cell phone.

"But I'll be damned if I crack you open before eating something, first. I really have zero desire to die on an empty stomach, thank you very much. Also, I'd really appreciate it if you stopped moving my shit too, got it?"

Needless to say, the distinct lack of anything moving in retaliation was taken as a silent agreement to her request.

Well, at least it had _some_ manners.

* * *

_A/N_**:** this story will probably contain more than a few tropes and clichés, but I will attempt to make them less redundant. Now, for the first trope: time-traveling, huzzah! This will probably be a bit short, to get the ball rolling, and also gauge potential interest, while making sure I don't bite off more than I can chew and pace myself a bit. I hope you enjoy, and please leave some feedback if you like it!


	2. Two

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Taking a swig of beer, the bottle was effectively finished off, and set off the side, making the meager weight in her lap seem that much heavier.

An hour ( four slices of pizza, and two beers ) later, she still hasn't opened the journal. Though, to her credit, her resolve was now fairly steeled. It could be the faint buzz from alcohol, or the fact that she just knows the damn thing won't stop bugging her if she didn't.

The faint murmur of "Hooked on a Feeling" playing from her laptop seemed to echo far more loudly than it should have, causing her eyebrow to twitch. She should just do it, rip it open like you'd do for a Band-Aid to keep it from hurting longer than necessary. _All right, here we go. _

Roughly flipping the cover page, she waited for something amazing ( or terrible ) to happen. Nothing in her apartment moved; nothing exploded; there was no white light or anything otherwise supernatural. A breath she didn't realize she was holding in was exhaled, and relief flooded her system. Looking down, nothing out of the ordinary was in the pages, either. The paper looked a little worn, and the handwriting could have been better, but it was- normal.

Skipping to random pages, she noted some of the entries were close together, while others were extremely far apart.

_If this is a hoax, it's a pretty well done one._

The language in the journal was definitely Victorian English, and dated in the 1800's; not to mention that the thing looked like it could've been there, with the color of the paper, and the minor wear and tear on it. Still, the fact that this was, supposedly, a belonging to one Ciel Phantomhive who was a creation, not an actual person, left a healthy amount of skepticism.

Reaching over to the box of pizza that still sat on the coffee table, another slice was grabbed, before she sat back on the couch with a faint sigh. Reading through it a bit couldn't hurt, right? No harm ever came from a book. At least, not in the real world, where that was impossible.

About as impossible as objects moving on their own…. or the notion that a fictional character actually existed.

Her rational side was still fairly hell-bent on explaining that last one. It's possible there _was_ someone named Ciel Phantomhive, who lived in London. It is also possible his family died, and he was left to carry on the name, and company. That isn't so far fetched, after all. Someone easily could've stumbled upon that information, and just built an entire fictional world, with otherwise fictional events around it. Kind of like the idea that Abraham Lincoln was a Vampire Hunter; the man himself certainly existed, but not so much in a Buffy the Vampire Slayer kind of way. Thought if he did, it would've made history a lot more exciting. And, really, that's all entertainment was: excitement.

A way to escape from normal, mundane things, and let yourself think, just for a moment, that something _supernatural_ could exist.

Shaking her head, she let her gaze drop back to the book, skimming over the written words with case. Some of what was mentioned sounded familiar, but it was too personalized to be some kind of item from the show. She could feel the faint indentation in the paper where the letters were, after all. The letters weren't printed; there were no logos or copyrights. Nothing, aside from the content, suggested it wasn't something other than a journal of a young boy.

A weird journal, maybe, paired with weird little occurrences that happened ever since she found it, but -

_There_.

Turning the page, there was no mistaking the sketch that took up the middle of the left page. Doodled in with extreme care, was that ever-infamous pentagram with quite a bit of a detail.

Even someone who had never encountered the source material would know where that was form, and what it meant. The merchandise was everywhere, after all, with the release of the newest season that encompassed a very popular manga arc. It was a bit disconcerting, to say the least. Pentagrams weren't a new mark; the showed up often in a number of different rituals, spanning over cultures that existed all over the world. But, to see this particular one, out of all others?

Kind of creepy, actually.

Shutting the journal, Mia rubbed her temples, feeling the beginning of a headache forming in the back of her mind. _Wonderful, absolutely wonderful_.

"I think that's enough for today, don't you?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer ( because, well, she wouldn't get one ) it was off to the kitchen to grab an Advil, and then a retreat into her room. With the fading light of day, and the dark curtains in her room, it was pleasantly cool and dimly lit.

Perfect for a quick nap to ward off the impending headache.

After that, it was another long night slaving over lyrics and melodies that needed to be sent out ASAP, in the hopes that a few labels would pick them up, and give decent pay. Credit was nice, and so was networking with people, but no one could survive in this world without compensation. Bills didn't wait for fame, or regular paychecks, for that matter.

Falling onto the bed, she didn't bother with the covers before her eyes steadily fell, and her consciousness was pulled into darkness.

xxx

There was something distinctly wrong with her pillow.

It wasn't nearly as soft as it was suppose to be, and someone pulled her curtains back, because she could practically feel the _sun_ behind her eyes.

Only, there was no way she'd slept all the way through until morning, was there?

Shooting up, the decision was immediately filed as a bad one, because her back was _killing_ her, and she was covered in dirt and grass.

"What the hell?"

Last time she checked, her home was in an apartment in New York, not outside god-knows-where.

And- she still had her headache. _Talk about adding insult to injury. _

Carefully she stood, a branch cracking beneath her bare feet, making her wince a bit at the contact. It took a bit of planning to try and step on only the softest parts of the ground, but even that probably had her looking utterly ridiculous.

Much to her relief, there was a little dirt road ahead, and what looked to be like the biggest goddamn house she'd even seen.

_No, scratch that, mansion. _

It was easily twice as big as most hotels, at least horizontally.

"Excuse me, miss?"

When someone snuck up behind her, she couldn't say; but upon turning heel, she came face-to-face with a chest. A presumably nice one that was covered in proper, refined layers, even if the style was slightly old fashioned.

"Uhm," _My, that was articulate_.

Mentally slapping herself, she braved looking up, and tried not to feel like a child under the extremely concentrated stare. That would've been easier if he was not so tall, and didn't have incredibly intimidating red eyes.

Hell, if she was in actual clothing and not pajamas, even that would help. But, alas, no; she is, indeed, in her sleepwear. With hair that – no doubt – looks very much like a dark lion's mane.

His stare was decidedly unimpressed, and honestly, she didn't blame him.

* * *

_A/N_**:** Time traveling is always fun, isn't it? I think that was a good place to end, otherwise I might've dragged this chapter out too much. Plus, it's almost midnight, and I want this up, though I know things are starting a _little_ slowly.

Please review & let me know what you think so far!


	3. Three

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_You know, if I weren't so angry right now, I'd admit that he has nice eyes._

But, she won't; because the butler _bastard_ was currently dragging her through the Phantomhive properly like she was some kind of criminal. This conclusion came about because, obviously, her pajama shorts are too short, her shirt too big (_does it __**look**__ like I'm concealing __weapons__?_) and her manner certainly not befitting a lady. Thus, the conclusion was: she was a spy.

A foreign spy meant to distract and garner information on the Earl, and his business.

It made perfect sense. _Not_.

All in all, it probably didn't help that she didn't tell him the truth— but, somehow saying, 'I'm from another parallel universe!' or some shit didn't really seem like a good idea. At least, not yet. Being thrown into some kind of insane asylum wasn't exactly on her to-do list.

_Worst case scenario, this is a hyper-realistic dream and I'll wake up at home. No need to explain how or why I got here, because I don't know, and no need to freak out over the fact that this place isn't suppose to exist. _

Keeping her sanity was a lot more important than playing girl from the future and being bombarded with questions. And, if Ciel Phantomhive was as cunning as he was portrayed, she doubted he would take 'I don't think I can tell you that', as a sufficient answer.

A sharp tug on her hands brought Mia back to reality, and she glared daggers into the back of his head. "I told you this isn't _necessary_. I'm going to bolt out of here."

It's not like she had anywhere to go, after all. That was **if** he didn't catch her; which, judging by the orange-red eyes he had, he would. Not even her four years of track would be helpful in this. How to Outrun a Demon wasn't, unfortunately, an exercise they touched on.

"While that may be so," Somehow he did not sound too convinced of it, even if she wasn't lying, "…you still must explain your case before my Master. Then, he will decide what to do with you."

_Oh, great._

**xxx**

That definitely did not sound very promising. People who irritated, or otherwise made trouble for the Earl never seemed to get away unscathed. That is, if they got away at all.

Being escorted (read: forced) in the study was a pretty nerve-wracking experience, even if the place was stupidly gorgeous.

The only saving grace was that the butler had a lot of work to do, apparently, thus leaving Mia alone with the Earl, who looked exactly like the futuristic depictions. Short, a young man with somewhat feminine features, and a look that was far more grownup than he actually was. But, then again, maybe having everything you've ever known be taken away, and summoning a demon added on more than a few years.

"Why were you wandering on my property? Half dressed, as a matter of fact. You do realize how very odd it looks; particularly with my competitors trying to be more sneaky."

Resisting the urge to mess with the end of her nightshirt, she offered a wry smile.

"It's kind of…complicated. I wasn't trying to be there, and I'm definitely not a spy. I don't have a stealthy bone in my body, and, well— it's not really up my alley."

"What is your name?" His fingers folded together as he leaned forward slightly, gaze faintly narrowed, as if he were attempting to take her apart then and there. "And how, pray tell, did you wind up so close to my home, then? Or, do you plan to avoid that question as well?"

_Yikes._

"Er, it's Mia— Mia Gordon; and, actually, I'd be happy to tell you," _No I won't._ "….but I'm not sure how to begin doing that. I wasn't exaggerating when I said it was complicated, and I'm not even sure I understand what happened. If I could, maybe, have some time to decipher it more on my own first, I'll you everything I know with the condition that it's taken seriously."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because even I think it's crazy."

For a moment, she was sure he was going to have her hauled off, or otherwise incarcerated; much to her surprise, he didn't. At least, not yet. "I'll consider it. For the time being, you will be under strict house arrest while I decide. Should you attempt to leave on your own, or jeopardize the household, there will be dire consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

Relief flooded her system and she nodded, rubbing right eye slightly as the entire situation rattled around in her head. "Yes, thank you- seriously. I promise I won't destroy anything while I'm here."

"I should hope not," The barest hint of a smirk fluttered across his face as he stood, "Then you would have to work to pay it off, which would take quite a while. Now, Sebastian will show you to where you will be staying. Do take a bath, and dress properly. God-forbid someone important visits and sees you like _that_."

"Pardon _me_ if I didn't have time to primp and gussy myself up."

The door behind her opened, revealing the butler, back ramrod straight, and with his eyes firmly fixed upon Ciel, clearly awaiting orders. Not even a glance was spared, which was a shame, because he was missing a rather (in her humble opinion) impressive glare.

Which only intensified with the order he received. "Sebastian, take her to the west wing. And don't let her touch anything along the way. Understood?"

"Of course, my Lord."

**xxx**

There were a million different ways to get her to not touch things. Like, for example, just asking her not to. That was pretty reasonable, and considering she knew her tendency to accidentally break things now and again, she would probably listen.

But _this_, this was embarrassing.

"You know, there are easier routes you could take if you want me to hate you, butler. Treating me like some invalid prisoner doesn't have to be one of them."

Currently, the damn steward was carrying her under his arm in a tight grip. She might have been impressed at his strength and control if she didn't feel like a sack of potatoes under intense scrutiny.

"And yet, that is what you are, more or _less_, until decided otherwise. Perhaps if you were not so secretive, and thus suspicious, you would not be treated as such. "

Which, she hated to admit, was true; but how the hell does one open a conversation with something that involves time travel? And until she figured out of it was just the past, babbling incoherently about that didn't seem like it would put in her a better position than keeping her mouth shut.

"Yeah, I know, my silence is a real inconvenience for everyone. Seriously, though, do I look dangerous to you?"

Arriving at her quarters (or, rather, glorified cell), the butler opened the door, and set her on her feet once again. He quickly mentioned the bathroom, that it was already stocked with everything she would need, and that they were currently acquiring a change of clothes.

"By the time you finish bathing, they will be here. Afterward, to keep you out of trouble, you will be put to work. Consider it an incentive for you to explain your situation clearly to my Master, sooner rather than later."

Offering a well-practiced smile, his fingers curled around the doorknob, prepping to leave. Just before it closed, however, his burning eyes bore into her, as sharp as a knife. "To answer your earlier query: no. In fact, you seem all around _unremarkable_."

Eyebrow twitching, she knew her face burned red-hot with anger, mouth slightly agape at his audacity.

Were it not for the suddenness of the door closing, as if anticipating her attack, the hall would have been filled with a colorful set of curses.

* * *

**A/N**: I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter honestly; it's necessary to establish how some of the relationships are going to be. As you can probably tell, Mia's relationship with Sebastian is going to be pretty rocky, for a couple of reasons. Strictly canonically speaking, he wouldn't ever fall in love with someone, so to have it happen in the wonderful world of fan fiction, there has to be some resistance! Ah, well, it'll make the payoff more enjoyable.


	4. Four

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Hair freshly washed, it fell into still-wet waves down to mid-back, as she gradually worked through the inevitable knots. He had offered to do it for her, likely to ensure that her hair was no longer a rat's nest, but a fake smile and door slamming was his answer. Like hell she wanted him to do her hair, like she couldn't even manage that much. Finishing off with one final pass, she was satisfied to find it went without a snag.

Now came the hard part.

Though she had braided her hair before, which was usually with the aid of another mirror, or another set of eyes. Doing it completely blind now was a bit of a challenge, and thus she kept a slow, patient pace, not wanting to make it crooked.

With a small, black hair tie it was fastened securely at the end. A little bit of hair spray or anti-frizz spritz would have been perfect, but there were no such luxuries here. And if there was some alternative, Mia really did not want to ask.

A short series of knocks drew her attention, and assuming it would be the butler, she let out a growl, "Fuck off, Michaelis."

"S-so sorry to disturb you, my lady, b-but I'm here with your clothes!"

Embarrassment rose to the surface, and she quickly invited the woman — who was, judging by her appearance — the maid. And she'd just made one shitty first impression on her, too. "Shit, sorry; I thought you were the devil in black. I'm Mia, by the way. What's your name?"

"Mey-rin, my lady! It was a bit short notice, but we managed to get some clothes for you to wear for now. More will be ordered tomorrow after your measurements have been taken."

Even though the pile of clothes looked ghastly, she couldn't help but smile, because the red-head was kind of adorable, and her grin was rather infectious, too.

"Alright, let's see what the damage is, shall we?"

Each dress was considerably worse than the last. Why in God's name did they have to be so frilly? Didn't they hear of the phrase, less is more? If they weren't so overblown with lace, it wouldn't be such a disaster. She would even consider wearing one, though she generally only wore dresses on really special occasions, or on the rare day that she actually wanted to.

Today was neither one of those days, and she didn't want to subjugate herself to drowning in fabric that was far too layered, heavy, and would require a corset. Seeing as more than a few people have broken ribs from heavy use of that particular garment, it was not going anywhere near her body.

With her eye twitching, she sat, rather dejectedly, on the edge of the bed, hoping the sheer force her disdain would will the horrible pieces of fabric next to her away.

"If I may ask, my lady," Mey-Rin began, twiddling her fingers and looking a bit nervous, even when motioned to continue, "….Do you not like Sebastian?"

Mia promptly snorted, arms crossing over her chest. "Not really. Was I suppose to be charmed and dazzled within five seconds of meeting him?"

Silence was a very telling answer— but she couldn't say she was surprised. From what she had gathered from skimming through a few pages of the Manga ( and general observations ), he was a very popular character among a few female characters, and even moreso among fans.

_Then again, they never had to actually meet him!_

"Granted, I don't really know him, but I'm not all that interested in doing that. All I want is to go back home, and get on with my life."

Mey-Rin nodded vigorously in understanding, and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "W-where is home? Far away, yes?"

"Very far from here, I'm guessing."

With one more pitiful glance at the small pile of dresses, she shot Mey-Rin a pleading look, fingers clasped together. "Look, I know you were suppose to help me into one of these, but honestly, it's not going to happen. Do you think you could find some nice pants and shirts? And…shoes that aren't heels, if you can. Boots would be preferable but anything flat with do. Please?"

The other woman quickly turned to the door, making sure no one else (most likely Sebastian) was within ear show. "Y-yes, I think I can!" It was a hushed promise, but one that was appreciated nonetheless.

Grinning, a quick hug was offered, much to the maid's surprise. "Thank you, you're a real live-saver. "

**xxx **

Reaching behind her head, the thick, long braid was pulled over her shoulder, a finishing touch to the attire Mey-Rin managed to get her hands on. More pieces would need to be ordered, but this would definitely do. Needless to say, though her current, somewhat loose shirt had an extra layer of thin fabric underneath, she was more than glad she hadn't taken off her bra for that nap. Otherwise, she would've had to suffer through a wrap.

Just thinking of a bind for her chest made the girls _hurt_.

Tucking in the remainder of the pants (which had a surprising resemblance to leggings, if only not quite as skin-tight, but close enough) into the boots, they were buckled up, secure along her calf.

Mey-Rin mentioned there were three other staff members, and that they were generally quite busy. Thus, she wouldn't be surprised if they weren't seen until much later, depending on what the _devil_ meant by putting her to work.

"When you're done," The red-head explained earlier, "….go down to the dining room for lunch!"

She could hear voices speaking, but it was not until she descended the stairs, and stood outside the door to the dining room that they were clearly recognized as the Earl, and his ever-loyal manservant. Random tidbits about their most recent case drifted into the hall, none of which made too much of an impression.

_Now I kind of wish I did read the damn story. Then, I'd know what the fuck is going on. _

Pushing the door open, she made her way to the table, and took a seat, ignoring the slightly surprised looks. Surprise quickly bled into frustration for the butler, and confusion from the Earl.

"I heard lunch was ready, which is great, because I'm starving."

Ciel cleared his throat slightly, and nodded to Sebastian, who went to, presumably, retrieve a plate her for. _Good riddance._

Tilting her head to the side, the faint _pops_ were relished, some tension being expelled by the simple, effective gesture.

"Mia—what on Earth are you wearing?"

Without even missing a beat, she slyly responded, "Clothes, of course." The small twitch of the butler's brow when he returned and placed a plated sandwich before her nearly brought fourth a satisfied smirk.

"I believe what the Young Master means is, you were suppose to be appropriately attired—"

"This is _appropriate_,"

"—in a dress, as a lady."

"Funny, I didn't think not wearing an obnoxiously frilly dress suddenly negated my gender. _Thank you_ for correcting me, Mr. Butler."

As if sensing the metaphorical (or literal) battlefield unfolding, the Earl promptly held up his hand, halting the response that had nearly tumbled from the steward's tongue, probably injected with venom disguised as sugar. "Regardless of how things are done where you are from, here, women are expected to dress, and frankly, act, a certain way. Going against that might invite— questions. Trouble, even."

Taking a bite out of the sandwich (t_his should not be so good, you fucking prick_), she gave a slight shrug. Wiping some of the crumbs with a napkin, she rested her chin along her hands, contemplating.

"Are you telling me you can't handle a little _trouble_? You live in a ridiculously big house, and are obviously respected in society because of your lineage. If anyone says anything, just tell them to mind their own business. Honestly, it's not the end of the world. For the record, pants are a lot more comfortable. If you ever had to wear a dress, you would _know_ that."

Something flickered across his expression, and the boy sat back in his chair, pressing a finger to his temple.

_Gotcha._

"Sebastian." One could practically hear the butler straighten, and turn his gaze to the Earl, for goodness sake. "I have quite a bit of work to do; therefore, I don't expect to hear any disturbances, from anyone. Have I made myself clear?"

A gloved hand came to rest above his heart, before he bowed respectfully. "Yes, my Lord. "

**xxx**

It seemed as if all the stupid, sexist jokes of _get back in the kitchen_ had come to fruition, because here she was, in the kitchen, with the man who clearly had some kind of stick up his ass, who was thoroughly criticizing her ability to knead bread.

She was pretty sure Gordon Ramsay was heaven compared to this guy, who was such a detailed-freak it was ridiculous.

"How is it that you do not know how to do something so simple?"

Pushing the heel of her palm into the dough, she flashed him the best, nauseating, sickly sweet smile she could manage, "—I'm sorry, I missed that class. _Darn_."

Her sass was no appreciated; it seemed, by the fact that a hand that suddenly smacked down on the table, making her jump faintly. "Then I suggest you make up for lost time and do it properly. The Young Master will not be pleased if anything in his house-hold is _half baked_."

Mia blinked in rapid succession, totally caught off guard by his words.

_Did he just_—

Obviously proud of himself for rendering her quiet, he returned to getting a head start on some of the dinner preparations with and all too smug air.

"….Was that a pun?"

No answer (or look, or acknowledgement) was given. In fact, she may as well have been invisible with how engrossed he became in finely chopping the ingredients.

She had to cover her mouth from snorting too loudly.

"That was just— _awful_."

* * *

A/N: Alright, updates from here on out might be a tad slow as I map out the story, and make the chapters longer now that I've got a nice foundation. I just cannot get Mia or Sebastian to not clash when they're in the same room; on the other hand, my love knows no bounds for Mey-Rin, and things are picking up! Also, I'm appreciative to everyone who's checked out the story so far, you're great! Perhaps, even, great enough to leave a little review? I've got cookies! uwu


	5. Five

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"H-how was your first day? Good, yes?"

If by good, she meant that the muscles in her hands and feel were killing her, than yes, it went extremely good.

Staring at her hands, Mia's frown deepened. "I don't think I can feel my fingers anymore, Mey-Rin."

"What happened?"

Slumping against the table, her arms stretched out, before coming to rest beneath her forehead. "He made me make a dozen loafs of bread. A _dozen_. Apparently I kept getting the consistently of the dough wrong, and he would throw it out before it even finished baking. Hell, sometimes he tossed it out even before it got to that point! Annoying bastard thinks he's so high and mighty. I hope he scuffs his shoes and doesn't notice until the end of the day."

Damn butler was so perfect it would probably give him a heart-attack realize his attire had not been utterly impeccable every moment of the day.

_I have failed the Young Master! My existence is a sham!_ Her mental-mocking was promptly interrupted by a sudden explosion from the kitchen, while startling, wasn't enough to make the young woman jump (though Mey-Rin looked alarmed enough).

"Oh, there _is_ a God." Any time spent fixing someone else's fuck up, meant time that she didn't have to deal with him hovering, making comments that were insults wrapped in feigned compliments, or any of his holier-than-thou crap.

Mia was intent in blowing out of there, and was nearly out the backdoor when a stupidly familiar chest blocked her path.

"There you are. I'm _glad_ I found you."

_Spoke too fucking soon._

Though convinced this had to be breaking some kind of guest-labor laws (Sebastian helpfully informed her that it wasn't, nor was she technically a guest), she did her best to avoid slacking off. The sooner the kitchen was no longer covered in charcoal and burned meat, the sooner she could take a break.

Maybe even a nap.

Before she could even daydream about that prospect, someone came crashing through the kitchen, and consequently, her. Knocked onto her back by the blow, an unfamiliar weight settled on her, and a groan of pain was released.

_I think I fell on a fork, goddamn. _

"Oh! Sorry, I'm so sorry!"

The wonder of the voice quickly scrambled off of her, eyes wide and apologetic. By the description given from Mey-Rin about the other staff members, she categorized him as the gardener. What was his name again?

"Yeah, it's— fine."

Rubbing her back slightly as she stood, and used the counter to anchor herself as the blond had a mini-meltdown among the mess. "Are you sure? Oh, no, you're hurt, aren't you?! Sebastian will _skin me!_"

At that, Mia couldn't help but snicker faintly, and shook her head. "I'm sure he won't. It's probably against policy to do that."

Not looking very convinced, he opened his mouth to speak once more, only to shut it immediately, paralyzed in the spot. She didn't need to be a psychic to guess why that happened.

Black moved into the corner of her eye, much to her displeasure. "Finny, I believe I instructed you, very plainly, to tend to the garden."

"A-ah, yes, you did, but I saw a cat sneaking in, and you know that they aren't allowed to be inside, so—!"

Gloved fingers pressed against his temple, before the gardener was waved off. "I will take care of the cat. And this, as well. "

If the door came off it's hinges when Finny left, the butler made no move to fix it just yet. Instead, his attention turned to her. A swift assessment of her condition was made, before his head, ever so slightly, tilted to the side. "Please, follow me. You are bleeding, and I would rather not have the kitchen contaminated once more."

Feeling warm liquid begin to trickle down her back, she grimaced, before idly following the swishing tailcoat down the hall. Allowing her eyes to wander, it quickly became evident how very empty the mansion was. While it was filled with furniture, books, paintings, and other decorations, the halls were barren of people.

This was so very different from what she was used to. Growing up, her home always had people, it was always loud and filled with good food and laughter. Even her apartment wasn't nearly as silent as this place, explosions aside.

"…Where _is_ everyone?"

"Working, naturally."

Rolling her eyes, she brushed passed him as the door to the washroom was opened. "That isn't what I meant." _And you know it. _

Hopping onto the counter (glare _ignored_), she did him the favor of pulling her shirt half-way off, letting it hang off her neck so as to be out of the way. If he was surprised by the lack of modesty, it went unnoticed. By now, she could practically feel some bruises forming on her back from how hard Finny knocked her into the tile, with the added bonus of falling onto silverware. "How bad is it?"

Though she could not see him, she could feel him behind her after a quick rummage through the cabinets. "Far from life-threatening. Thankfully, no stitches will be required; once the wound is disinfected, and wrapped, it should heal perfectly well on it's own merit."

Not desiring blood, or cleaning agents to stain his gloves (regardless of the fact that they could be cleaned, or replaced if necessary), the right one was removed for the time being. He surmised she would remain still, and even if not, his Faustian mark was on the _other_ hand.

"Lean forward."

Dabbing hydrogen peroxide onto a folded piece of gauze, his gaze drifted to the scratches upon her back, as well as a sizable bruise that was blossoming on her upper shoulder. Such was the hazard of encountering their extremely strong, though friendly, gardener. Knowing it would sting, Sebastian took care in pressing the damp material along her skin.

To her credit, only a light hiss escaped in the beginning, before she had grown accustomed to the annoying sting. "You are lucky there were not more dangerous objects on the floor. Or, that Finny did not barge into the kitchen with more force than what was already being used."

Mia's fingers twisted with the end of her braid, humming in some acknowledgement to his words. "Yeah, well, it's fine, isn't it? Besides, you don't have to pretend that you even remotely care. I'm just a suspicious stranger, after all."

Discarding of the gauze, now spotted with red, a pleasant smile formed on his features. "Even so, for the time being you are staying here. It would hardly reflect well on the Young Lord to have any within his household to sustain terrible injuries. And, as far as the outside world is concerned, you are a guest. We have famous hospitality and service to uphold. Surely even you know the importance of one's image, when their social status is renowned?"

"Why does every other sentence you say sound like an insult? Believe it or not, _social status_ isn't everything. It hardly makes someone a better person — maybe better _off_, but that's about it."

From behind her, the butler's brief chuckle reached her ears, only serving to add to her general disdain for him.

"Yes, perhaps that is true. But in this world, whether someone is good or not matters little to most. What does sway opinions is power. Wealth. Status. That is a truth to this world, regardless of whether you think it is fair or not."

_Whatever_, she bit back mentally. As easy as it would be to fall into an argument, this was obviously going to be an uphill battle. _Of course_ he didn't understand; but that was his problem, not hers.

"Please raise your hands above your head, so that I may wrap these bandages securely. If needed, you may hand the cloth to me should you feel more comfortable with—"

"Oh, geez, just do it. It's not a big deal, and it'll go faster."

As expected, he worked swiftly, and with precision, not even sparing her chest a glance. Whether it was from a lack of an openly perverse nature, or simply a lack of desire to, she did not particularly care. Too bad her breasts felt _squished_ now.

Bringing around the final few inches of the cloth, Sebastian reached for the adhesive, allowing his fingers to, but for a moment, touch the skin between her shoulders.

In that instant, he knew it to be a _mistake._

Time slowed, and his power flared to the surface, pulsating through his veins, alive and wild. It then released, crackling against his skin, filling the space with a dark mist, and a brilliant amaranthine glow.

"…..Uh, Michaelis? What is _that—"_

His energy pooled in his hand, and seemed to still for a moment. The next instant it all _rushed_ forward, spilling from his fingertips into her in a strong surge of power.

Sebastian broke from his rare, ill-timed stupor, and immediately ripped his hand away, ceasing the connection, and putting a cap upon his energy once more. It was now once more under tight lock and key, as it should have been, were it not for this unexpected affair.

Pain shot through her system in waves, causing her to fall forward onto the floor in a fit of movements. It felt like her skin was burning; like a fire was trying to eat it's way into the _bone_.

Clenching her fists against the tile, she fought for the right to breathe. Every inch of her body screamed for oxygen, and for relief from the foreign _thing_ that was consuming every nerve, leaving nothing untouched from agony.

Her chest constricted even as the pain slowly began to ebb; but it was far from gone, like lingering acid within her cells. Panting, a light sheet of sweat formed on the surface of her skin, cooling the fire that had once been present; but it was not nearly enough. From the floor, pale blue eyes glared fiercely at him, from betwixt a mess of dark hair.

"Fuck, what did you do? It hurts, dammit!"

Red-orange eyes remained fixed on her. Though his expression was that of subdued surprise, inside, shock, horror, and disgust swirled into one, a dangerous mixture that tainted his very being.

"Oh my."

His lips formed a tight line, gaze flashing red faintly, before returning to their previous hue. His fingers curled beneath his jaw, still uncovered, with black nails on full display; brows drawn together in thought, the butler shook his head gently, utterly displeased. "This simply will not do."

Groaning, she reached up to grab the counter, and pulled herself to her feet, arms shaking as she popped herself up on his surface. Shirt still askew, it offered a view of her freshly bandaged back to the demon— and the faint, though visible brand of his mark.

xxx

Knocking at his door brought Ciel from his thoughts, eye lifting from the paper that held the quarterly marks of his company.

"Young Master, may I speak with you?"

It was too early for tea, or a pre-dinner snack. Though clearly rather important, the young boy could not help but be slightly irritated still; after all, he was rarely in short of work to be done, whether it was in regards to the Funtom Company, or the Queen's desires.

What the _devil_ could Sebastian want?

"Enter."

His butler swept through the door swiftly, with his newly acquired 'guest' in tow, which was certainly a surprise. The door shut behind them, and the demon took a place closer to him, looking a bit unsettled.

"It seems as though an unforeseen circumstance has arisen. For, at least, a period of time, I must request that we keep Miss Gordon on the premises, regardless of the credibility to her— story."

Ciel's brow rose slightly as he sat back into his chair comfortably. "And why should I entertain this request, Sebastian?"

It did not escape his notice how uncomfortable the demon seemed to be, though very little was being let on. Another may not have picked up on it, but having spent so much time with him, it was glaringly obvious.

"The peanut gallery would also like an explanation for the fuck happened back there—"

Mia was practically seething, arms crossed over her chest as she waited expectantly for some kind of answer. One that the steward did not seem to keen on giving to alone, let alone admitting out loud.

What could possibly be so bad that he did not even want to say it?

Alas, there was no choice in the matter.

Clearing his throat, Sebastian shifted minutely on his feet, hands enclosed behind his back as he spoke with closed eyes, "In an unsavory turn of events, Miss Gordon has, much to my confusion, been claimed as my mate."

Something in the air definitely _cracked_ at that.

"Excuse me? What the fuck!"

* * *

_A/N_**:** I don't know why, but it's pretty fun having Sebastian just _pop up_ out of nowhere. Maybe it's because he's a demon, or maybe his ears burn if someone is talking about him? Who knows! Though I didn't plan to put this up today – because frankly, I didn't think I would have time to write it – I was pretty inspired during my lunch break and work, and wrote most of it! I'm also pleased at the new followers & favs that happened between my update last night and this morning—thank you! And, just to get this out of the way: this won't be one of those soulmate stories where Sebastian is a lovesick puppy because of it ( however adorable it is ). I want to toy with the idea of soulmates, but not liking who you're tied to, and frankly, being disappointed at who fate chose. It won't /stay/ like that, this is a romance after all, but the thought of that tension, and working through that really interests me. Can't wait to continue the ride with you guys in the next chapter!


	6. Six

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

_Mate? Hell no!_

Still growling from her previous outburst, her mind was running rampant and wild, everything crashing together and melding in erratic thoughts that were bound to give her a headache. Of all things that could have happened while running around in the past, _this_ was possibly the worst of them, not to mention the most _ludicrous._

"My sentiments exactly— however vulgar your statement was."

Oh, why, _why_ couldn't looks kill?

Stewing in frustration, her jaw clenched noticeably, eyes flickering from Ciel's bewildered face, to Sebastian's stone-cold one. "Yeah? Then maybe you shouldn't have, I don't know, pulled _that_ stunt!"

Things like were not supposed to happen to her, or, frankly, at all! Situations of this nature only appeared in cheesy romance novels; people didn't actually have a literal soulmate. Or— whatever this was called.

Why the hell would his power claim _her_? It was difficult enough to rationalize that a fictional story wasn't so fictional, including it's inhuman aspects. The last thing she wanted was to be tied down to anyone, let alone a _demon_ who _ate_ people!

Okay, technically he ate their souls, but the fact remained that people, to him, were nothing but prey; and to her, he was a giant, stuck-up asshole with murderous tendencies. Seeing as everything else she had read in the journal seemed to be true, it was far from ridiculous to assume think that tidbit had been anything but entirely true as well.

A vein jumping faintly within his forehead signaled his own vexation at the situation, though his voice remained fairly even—if only a tad strained, to a familiar ear. "I assure you, were it _under_ my control, such nonsense never would have occurred."

Bending over slightly, an arm wrapped around her stomach as she _laughed_, possibly border lining delirious at this point. Snickering still, her posture straightened, and a bit of moisture was wiped from her eye.

"Isn't that rich! A demon who can't control his own power. Fucking hilarious!"

Amongst the other chaos, that was enough to provide a distraction, if only momentarily. The Earl stiffed, sharing a hardened glance to his butler, before pinning her with his stare. Y'know, for a kid, he really had intimidation down.

"—What did you say?"

_Busted._

Realizing the gravity of her blunder, she played with her braid nervously, twirling the loose strands at the end around her finger. "Ah— nothing?"

Never before in her life had the sound of a door being locked sounded so _ominous_.

xxx

It had taken some careful, detailed explanation to get the two of them to stop snarling (well, Ciel wasn't snarling so much as the _demon_) at her with questions. The entire time he made sure to shoot queries her way that were meant to try and tip her up, in case she was an incredibly good liar.

Given his nature, she was sure he could tell she was being truthful— and was only trying to give out some kind of punishment.

As if it was _her_ fault.

Between interrogating her, his eyes were burning into her, tearing her piece by piece, trying to decipher her _worth_. Mia did not need to be a rocket scientist to know that she was not going to measure up to whatever bat-shit standards he had.

In a way, she almost wished that she did, she was everything he ever wanted— just so she could reject and humiliate him.

They were only in silent agreement of one thing: neither wanted the other. Of course, he held the upper hand, with knowledge of the situation, while she did not. Humans married who they wanted to, if they wanted to. Arranged marriages were nearly dead, and free-will was in abundance. People did what they wanted, when they wanted to, without needing to answer to another.

By every account, this was a very rude awakening from that life.

"Like I already said a _hundred_ times, I found a journal — your journal, Phantomhive — went to sleep off a headache, and woke up here. Obviously the stupid thing was cursed, or possessed, or…._whatever_ you want to call it. That's it. Can I go now? _Someone's_ scowling face is really getting on my nerves."

That particular _someone_ immediately straightened his tailcoat, face once more schooled into a cool indifference; even if his eyes were still burning like hot coals.

The only potentially good thing about this ridiculous shtick, was that he probably couldn't kill her. Maybe. Honestly, she had no goddamn clue. But, that didn't mean 'accidents' couldn't occur. And really, she wouldn't put it passed him to just let other people do his work for him.

"I was not scowling."

"No, you're right, looking like an ass is just your default setting. My bad."

If it weren't for Ciel interrupting, Sebastian's growling might have shook the house with it's intensity. That was pretty terrifying, actually, only hammering home just how fucked up the entire thing was.

How did she get tied to, of all things, a _monster_?

"Sebastian," The boy snapped, not entirely shaken; clearly he was more used to seeing the demon's ferocity. "You will get ahold of yourself and act _accordingly._ I will allow your request so that this madness can be sorted out, between the _both_ of you. Then, we will find a way to ensure that you, Mia, return back to the proper time and place, lest the entire timeline of events that was meant to occur become more muddled than they may already have been. Understood?"

A gloved hand covered the demon's heart (_ha!_), a well-rehearsed, "Yes, My Lord," escaping the tense figure.

Dark blue eyes turned to her expectantly. Fighting the urge to sigh, she nodded, if somewhat reluctantly, arms still crossed under her bust. "Fine." That was about as good as he was going to get, and knowing that, Ciel pinched the bridge of his nose, and dismissed them.

Once the door was shut again, a breath of relief escaped as he sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

"Never-ending drama, the_ lot_ of them."

xxx

Unable to help herself, she reached behind her back and scratched the now itchy surface between her shoulder blades the best she could. Which, wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

At least, until her hands were smacked away. "Stop that behavior immediately."

Now it was her turn to scowl, "If I want to scratch _my_ _back _because of a stupid mark _you_ put there, I damn well will."

"It is healing. If you continue to pick at it, it will take longer to heal, and you will risk infection. And yes, you are correct — it is _my_ mark, therefore, if it must be on the likes of _you_, I would prefer it to look exceptional as possible, and not marred by inflamed, damaged skin."

_Okay, why the __**fuck**__ does everyone like him again?_

Hands clenching into a fist, her nails bit into the flesh of her palm, doing little to ease her flaring temper. "Listen, I'm not your damn property—"

"—On the contrary, you may as well be." His smirk was insufferable, almost as much as his haughty attitude, and grace in which he did everything: even something as simple as opening the door to her room was made to look like art.

_Stupid demon. _

"Make no mistake, I would have preferred a much more suitable being, but, if only for the time being, you are mine to care for, or discard, as I see fit. Be grateful I have not chosen the latter— _yet_."

Beginning to undue her braid, she snorted, "Gee, I'm so sorry you lost your pick of the supernatural creature litter and are tethered to a human. It must be so _embarrassing_."

"It is not entirely because of the fact that you are human. A demon being given a human for a mate is not unheard of; in fact, there has been a steady increase of potential mates that are human for some time. And, while, yes, I _am_ thoroughly embarrassed, I feel so more because you have no power; no status; no recognition; nothing that makes a human in this world _worthwhile._ That would have been enough to gradually quell the shock of my mate being mortal, though it would, indeed, still have been rather upsetting to a degree. However, the fact that you are human with no admirable qualities is only, as they say, adding insult to injury."

Her face was positively burning, the heat from her anger more than just visible by the red that colored her cheeks; it was tangible in the very air they breathed, and he knew it, and seemed to be satisfied by it.

Misery certainly loved company, it seemed. "Congratulations," Her tone was mocking, biting even, "….I hate you. Now, get the hell out of my room before I figure out how to strangle you with bedsheets."

His laughter echoed even long after the door had been shut. "I _welcome_ you to try, little mate."

There was no doubt in her mind that such an endearment was supposed to be just that, endearing; sweet; a gesture of affection. Yet the way he said it, there was no denying that it was an insult, a reminder of their current predicament, and how much they dually loathed it.

Mind still running at a million miles per hour, sleep did not come that night at all. Instead, she lay in the bed, hoping, wishing she would just open her eyes and be in her own bed. Even the sounds of the city would be welcomed to the unfamiliar, and nearly eerie quietness of the countryside.

Here, there wasn't a computer or smartphone she could kill time on. _Internet,_ she mentally sighed longingly, _how I miss you._

Bare legs swinging over the side (she'd long since changed back into the now-cleaned shorts and t-she came in here with), Mia decided she may as well entertain herself a little bit. And nothing said mournfully passing the time like a nightcap!

Moving as quietly as possible throughout the house, particularly when passing Sebastian's quarters (if he was even there), she made her way into the kitchen. Even in the middle of the night, the place smelled absolutely amazing still. How was it in any way fair that a soul-eating demon was so good at cooking?

Opening and closing cabinets with care, she was rather displeased to find that there was no alcohol to be seen. Sure, Ciel was still well under the drinking age, but it had to be here! Think, where do people keep alcohol, if not in the kitchen?

_Wine cellar!_

Her assent had been correct, which is how she found herself happily on the kitchen counter, with a bottle of red-wine. She would have preferred a daiquiri, or, maybe even a mudslide, but the wine definitely wasn't a bad choice.

"Must I add 'alcoholic' to my assessment of you?"

Not even bothering to turn her head to see the figure in the doorway, she poured herself another small glass of wine, and brought it to her lips. "Liking a drink or two now and then doesn't make someone an alcoholic, genius. Drinking it like water, all day, every day, does. By the way, maybe you should be more concerned with the Earl's sweets intake than my alcohol ones. The kid is going to become an early diabetic at this rate."

He blinked, obviously a tad surprise, and dare she say, confused by the addition of something that he was not familiar with. "Diabetic?"

"Yeah, you know, diabetes? It's a disease. Basically, it means that you have high levels of sugar in your blood, which isn't a good thing. It causes a lot of problems later in life, or earlier, if someone were to, say, eat sweets morning, lunch, and dinner every day. Ciel may not have an ounce of fat on him, but I'm willing to bet he's a borderline diabetic already. But, who knows. You'll probably devour his soul before that happens. Lucky him."

Walking closer, the demon promptly took the bottle of wine, much to her protest, and popped the cork back in. "I will be eating his soul, not his flesh."

"About that," Her eyes lifted from the small remainder of wine she had left, gaze flickering over to him. No longer seething with anger, it was surprisingly easy to speak candidly without the urge to bash something over his head. Not that it would hurt, or do any real damage. "The difference doesn't make much of a difference to me."

"It bothers you."

"No shit."

Sebastian's head cocked to the side, "But you do not care for the Young Lord."

"So? Caring about him has nothing to do with _what_ you are. I don't fancy living the rest of my life with a glorified, excused murderer, thanks."

Finishing off the rest of her wine, she hopped off the counter, and moved toward the sink. Behind her, the butler was surprisingly quiet; contemplative, more than likely. "Speaking of…you know. What can be done about it? Is there a way to get rid of it?"

His hand extended, and she handed him the wine glass, so he could put it away properly. As it was, she needed to get onto the counter to reach the shelf, and he simply could not have her dirtying the place any more than it was already. "I am unsure. That is something that demons do not normally do, after all. I will need to ask those who have been alive far longer than I to see if it is possible, or if attempting to will be in vain."

"….Then, in the meantime?"

"In the meantime," Sebastian trailed, pulling various items from the pantry and laying them out upon the island counter, "It would likely be best to be _somewhat_ civil to one another."

"Let me guess, a little blue-haired boy told you that?"

The corners of his mouth twitched faintly upward in controlled amusement. "More or less, yes, he did _advise_ such a thing should occur. I can understand why, of course. It would make the entire arrangement much more bearable if neither of us were constantly at each other's throats— both figuratively and literally."

_Did her little sheet comment reach Ciel's ears? Oops._

"I really don't want to get to know you."

"Unfortunately, sooner or later, it is bound to happen. I am not suggesting that, suddenly, we partake on romantic outings and the like. Merely that there is a subdued level of hostility."

Rubbing her eyes, sleepiness finally beginning to settle in, she waves him off slightly, with a lazy flick with her wrist. "Okay, fine, whatever. I'm going to bed. You do— whatever it is your doing."

"Why, I am making some preparations for breakfast, of course."

"At _this_ hour?"

"My day does not end simply because the sun went down. I suggest you, however, do retire. There is an early morning awaiting you, with plenty of things to keep you occupied for the better part of the day."

Groaning, she tried not to drag her feet too much as she left the kitchen, grumbling under her breath. "You really _are_ evil."

* * *

_A/N**:**_ Sometimes, Ciel is more of an adult than _anyone_, Sebastian and Mia included. Who said youths can't be mature and wise? Hope you enjoyed this bit. Lots of Sebastian / Mia interaction in this one! I managed to squeeze this out in-between cleaning! I hope everyone is enjoying his or her weekend so far! And, maybe, just maybe with the right motivation, you can see another chapter up tonight or tomorrow! (A few more reviews & favs, maybe? /wink) But seriously, thank you for the interest in this story regardless! And if you're like, gosh, why is Sebastian such an asshole? Well, it's because demons are assholes. He's just really good at being charming and pretty so it's easy to forget. Never fear, there is still hope for him yet!


	7. Seven

.

.

.

.

* * *

A week later, and they had barely spoken— at least, on personal terms. Polite, civil conversation had occurred (none of which involved their issue), but all in all, it was easy enough to avoid one another while engrossed in work.

Or, rather, Sebastian had ensured she had _plenty_ to do away from his frequented areas while he was there.

Naturally, there was still quite a bit about the entire ordeal that had her frustrated. Like his inability to give her any information about they predicament; the fact that he was a demon with soul-eating tendencies; and his overall attitude in general.

To be slightly far in that regard, she was far from subdued in her nature either, which obviously seemed to make it worse. Considering how most women were expected to be in these times, her raw nature must be like a slap in the face. That seemed more like a personal problem he needed to get over, though. She wasn't about to pretend to be something she wasn't, social expectations be damned.

Honestly, the thought that there probably were other girls like her who might be reprimanded for daring to think for themselves, and speak as such, only made her more determined to _not_ bend. All in all, though incredibly homesick, staying at the manor was— okay. It would have been a lot better if she wasn't being forced to work from sun up until sun down, though.

And to top it all off, since the beginning of the week, she'd been noticing a _pull_, as if there was some invisible string somewhere inside her body that gave particularly noticeable tugs whenever the demon was near. Needless to say, it was annoying, and utterly persistent. Sometimes a tangible need of wanting to be closer to him appeared long enough to make her nose scrunch, before it was crushed.

It was disconcerting, to say the least; so much in fact, that she purposefully skipped out on helping Finny with the garden, to trap her so-called demon mate in the kitchen while he was making tea.

The way his shoulders tensed as soon as she opened the door did not go unnoticed — it wrinkled the back of his tailcoat, which was always pressed to perfection.

He didn't speak, clearly waiting for her to.

_Well, here it goes._

Taking a deep breath, it all came tumbling out of her mouth at once: "Why do I want to be near you? Or, well, why does it feel like I want to, even when I _don't_?" There, that sounded much more levelheaded and clear, ensuring she is claiming no accountability for those _tugs_.

As calm as ever, the butler poured two scoops of tealeaves into the teapot, before closing the lid to let it set. "It is an unfortunate side-effect of the incomplete bond, meant to encourage it's fruition. For the moment, the pull is not as powerful. I imagine the longer the bond is left only half done, the stronger it will become. Logically, this makes sense, as a demon's mate is more vulnerable during this time. Your life span has yet to be tied to mine; and only a small portion of my power is in you, offering little protection. A complete blond strengthens both involved, to maximize their survival."

How in the world he could talk about that like he was simply reading a passage from a newspaper was beyond her. As it was, it left her mouth hanging open a little. Sure, a longer life span sounded nifty; as did being stronger. Too bad it had unwanted baggage along with it. "I'm guessing this 'completion' you keep mentioning…."

"Involves sex, yes. Obviously."

"Right, obviously." Because that clearly made sense, because she knows _so much_ about demons and what happened during this entire process. Obviously. "In that case, it would probably be a good idea to find out if it can get broken soon, right?"

"That is correct. "

Mia knows she probably shouldn't ask the question that popped into her head, but her damnable curiosity just would not let it go. "Hypothetically speaking, if it's not broken in say…. a month. Where would we be?"

For a moment his mouth presses into a tighter line, fingers making quick work of the Earl's lunch— a rather extravagant looking sandwich, with a small portion of soup on the side. No sweets.

_Did he actually listen to me? No shit._

"I expect by that point, if not sooner, the bond will fabricate more _incentives_ for closeness. The longer it is postponed, the more chaotic the feelings will be, and they will intensify. To the point of pain, even."

Well, that did not sound pleasant. "Does everything involving demons have to be painful?"

His sudden smirk did not help matters at all. "No, not _everything_. I suggest you prepare yourself for that possibility, just as I will."

She gaped, brows furrowed together. "I thought you wanted to ditch me? Hell, I want you to ditch me!"

The sigh that escaped was the very definition of over-exaggerated and dramatic. "Ah, yes. That has not changed. You are still terribly unfit to be my mate; however I am not _foolish_ enough to avoid considering the very real possibility that breaking the bond may not be an option."

"You're not very romantic."

"I see no reason to be. We do not like one another— we would both prefer a greatly different outcome. What about this situation calls for such frivolous sentiments?"

"Nothing. But this isn't a _business transaction_ either. I thought you wanted us to be 'civil' and 'relatively' nice? At the very least you could show me a little more respect, you know, starting with the fact that you belittle my race every chance you get."

"Says the human who repeatedly calls me _monster_. Perhaps you should take your own advice, _Miss Gordon_?"

…_You win this round, Michaelis._

xxx

So, she made an effort not to call him monster; or demon (even though that is what he was). And he did not mention, on a daily basis, how pitiful and weak humans were, even though at times she could clearly see how badly he wanted to in certain moments.

Like when she would get bruised and cut from rose bushes and rough housing with Finny— who was awesome, by the way. The little-big brother she never knew she wanted, or asked for; but got all the same.

"Do you ever cease bleeding?" He chided one afternoon, wrapping her ankle.

"Well, I'm kind of alive, so no. But if I did, I would be dead, technically."

There was no denying she lived to see the strain and frustration in his eyes. It was way too amusing, especially when she was being particularly _obvious_ just to irritate him. Although the terrorizing continued, it was not laced with death-threats. At least, none that were _vocalized_.

Sometimes he would 'forget' that Bard was in the kitchen with firearms and just send her in, almost curious to see if she would come out alive. And, sometimes she would drop stuff from the third floor when he 'happened' to be walking by.

He always caught it though, or moved, which kind of spoiled her entertainment. It wasn't like he would actually get hurt, right?

_Suck the fun out of everything, why don't you._

By dinner at the end of the second week, tension around the manor had dropped considerably. Ciel was no longer convinced Sebastian and her would try to kill each other the moment they were left unsupervised; Mey-Rin, Finny, and Bard spoke more freely to the both of them, not entirely worried that a single mention of the other's name would trigger an unwarranted explosion of temper (or, in Sebastian's case, an unnecessary around of additional chores).

However, that didn't mean love had suddenly blossomed, and everything was sunshine and rainbows, either.

"Will you stop trying to micromanage me already?"

"I am _not_."

It was moments like these wherein no one dared to breathe too loudly, lest pent up frustration and anger be redirected at them.

"Yes, you are! Working all day wouldn't be such a big deal if you weren't checking in with me every half hour to correct me on things that don't even _matter_. "

"The Phantomhive Estate—"

"—Must always be kept pristine, whatever, I know that. But you're having me do things I don't even need to do: it's just _busy_ work so you can control what I'm doing when you aren't there."

Though somewhat muffled from his door, the young Earl was seriously considering building a separate building where the two could argue when the mood struck. While it hadn't affected his butler's productively yet, there was an extra stiffness to the demon most days, as if he were simply waiting for something to fuel the flames of Mia's temper. Not that he held any sympathy whatsoever for the demon, who often started the fire himself, perhaps hoping over time it would have worn the young woman down.

It had not.

Ciel was far more intuitive in this case, having long since realized that the new addition to the household was very much akin to a wildfire. She was not an element to be tamed, and against her, one could only get burned. But there were ways to lessen the flames, if one was genuine; and likewise, building positive relations would ensure the fire worked alongside you, rather than being in it's destructive path.

But Sebastian was so old, and certain habits, and values that were adopted from both his own society and the human world, were instilled deeply into him. He was more unchanging, adapting only that was necessary so that he could survive, and eat. That did not compromise his outlook on how certain things should be.

And if a guess was needed, Ciel could easily surmise that Sebastian assumed the spouse (at least of a demon) should be quiet, entirely submissive, and thus, more easily controlled. Many people in current society believed more or less the same, but perhaps less strictly so. A spark of personality was still charming, even to those who preferred more docile companions.

Frankly, Ciel did not see the appeal in that. A partner should be equal, with strength of character, but also _engaging_. Able to hold conversation that did not revolve merely around fashion or gossip. Those things were attractive in a partner from his point of view, and what was, for him, required. He _needed_ someone to be able to stand next to him, not sit around _for_ him.

As far as he could tell, although his butler was currently days away from tearing his own hair out (a sight he might pay to see, in all honesty), that was what the demon needed, too. Even if Sebastian was too blind in his disappointment to see it.

"Sebastian."

Voice just loud enough, the bickering in the hall fell to a low, harsh whisper, just for a moment as his butler spoke. "We will continue this at another time."

An annoyed _whatever_ barely reached him before the demon entered the study, eyes falling on him expectantly. "Is there something I can do for you, My Lord?"

"I will be retiring early. Prepare my bath and bed."

xxx

Steam filled the room as she sunk further into the almost too-hot water that Mey-Rin had set for her, as requested. It never failed to turn her skin pink, even though she was far from being pale. Not as dark as her mother, but not nearly as light as her father. A balanced mixture of them both, in fact.

_Home._

She missed it; she missed them. Her parents, even if they were overbearing at times; her friends, hell, even her obnoxious neighbors. Two weeks in the past and there was no clue as to how she could get home, or how she could sever the ties between Sebastian and her.

It was a bleak outlook, from her perspective. At least Sebastian wasn't completely displaced in time; everything here was familiar to him. The people, the manor, society. He seemed to feel perfectly at ease, and integrated himself easily into almost every situation. While she felt more and more out of place each day, glaring differences sticking out at her at every turn.

"Ugh." Falling a bit lower into the water, Mia relished the feel of the water's warmth, and how it seemed to soothe her muscles and frazzled nerves. A message therapy session would be nice, to really get into the knots she knew were there, but this was pretty good, too.

Lost in thought, she was more than simply surprised when she opened her eyes to see the current ( and possibly life long ) bane of her existence. Interested or not, her arms immediately crossed over her chest, followed by ankles crossing.

She probably should have accepted the addition of bubbles when Mey-Rin asked if she wanted some. _No thanks, I won't need them! Yeah, my ass._

"Seriously?! Haven't you heard of knocking? Or, better yet, privacy!"

Gaze averted slightly, she gave him half a point for trying to polite, even if the really polite thing would have been to not come in while she was bathing. "We did not finish our conversation from earlier."

"And it couldn't wait?"

"You were not ashamed before."

A question mark practically appeared over her head at that one. "—What?"

"Before, when you fell, and required bandages."

Hanging around Finny may be the cause of most of her injuries (none of them really directly his fault, the boy was just too strong and she was too reckless), but that one had, thankfully, been the worst. "_Oh_. Well, that's because it was a medical thing, whereas here I feel pretty ambushed in the tub, even if you couldn't give a shit about that."

With ease Sebastian removed his gloves, demonstrating a ridiculous amount of grace for such a mundane task, and put them upon the counter. "I am not entirely the selfish, unreasonable you paint me to be."

"That's your fault, since that's how you are _most_ of the time."

"Which is exactly why I am here. A peace offering, if you will. Demons live primarily a solitary lifestyle, though some enjoy staying in small, close-knit family groups, if only temporarily. However if given the choice, I would prefer to face the rest of eternity with no one, than with someone who ignores and loathes my existence. Say what you will about our nature, but all creatures, to some degree, require— attention. Affection, even."

"…You want me to give you affection? Have you lost your mind?"

"Possibly. I am constantly at war with my instincts that crave attention, or at least, positivity, and my personal indifference toward you."

"So now we're at _indifference_, instead of personal distaste."

"This is a very new development and can recede at any given moment, I assure you."

"Right, so all that explains why you're here to— what, exactly?"

"It has come to my attention that humans can enjoy others doting on them, as it were. For example, someone washing their hair for them." Her eyes swept back and fourth between the vial of hair cleanser, and Sebastian's hand— now with a dollop of it's contents sitting in his palm. "May I?"

"I have a feeling you won't leave unless I say yes."

"How very correct of you to assume so."

Resisting the urge to grumble, she sat up a little more, and willed her shoulders to relax as he moved behind her, and unfamiliar hands began to work through wet strands of hair. A lather was worked up leisurely with his ever-skilled fingers, massaging with ease over her scalp.

It wasn't long before her head lolled forward, relaxation pulled from his practiced ministrations. And with a weakness for others brushing her hair (or giving a good scalp massage) she was practically putty. Were she a cat, she might've

It wasn't long before her head lolled forward, relaxation pulled from his practiced ministrations. And with a weakness for others brushing her hair (or giving a good scalp massage) she was practically putty. Were she a cat, she might've purred— or, you know, kicked the air with her tongue hanging out like a dog.

By some miracle she managed not to wine in displeasure when his fingers untangled from her hair. Warm water was poured over her head to get the cleanser out of her hair, with a singular hand working through the thick mass to ensure none of it remained in her hair or on her scalp.

Sebastian gathered her hair and squeezed the excess water out, all the way to the long ends. "You are in need of a trim, I see. Split-ends stunt the growth of new, healthy hair."

"I'll be sure to book an appointment at my hair stylist as soon as it's 2014, Michaelis."

She expected a chuckle — after all, he's found her at least somewhat amusing before. But it didn't come. Instead, when she looked up, his expression was rather…serious.

"Must you insist on using my last name?"

Lying is an option, but only for a split-second; after all, he'd call her on it before she even finished speaking. "—Because it's less personal."

"Please use my first name." Unfolding a towel for her, his eyes remained perfectly shut as she existed the tub, and took it from his fingers. Fabric wrapped tightly around her body, she tied up her hair into a loose, messy bun. "After all, our situation is likely to become quite personal, whether we want it to be so or not."

He was right, and it was both infuriating and _calming_ to know that he was.

* * *

_A/N ( 08/11/14 )_**:** While things with the impromptu bond become more complicated, their relationship will be furthering. Progression is a great thing, friends, even if they are entirely dysfunctional. And while I definitely like slow burn stuff, I will certainly be endeavoring to not move at a glacial pace, either! But there is definitely going to be some species barriers. It's gotta be there. Oh! & quite a few people are checking out the story (which is great!) but I haven't gotten too much feedback. Please consider leaving a review to let me know what you think of the story thus far. 8) Flames are not appreciated, but compliments & constructive criticism certainly is!

Also, as some of you may know, we lost a really talented individual today. Robin Williams, you brought joy and wisdom to so many people over the years, and will be missed.


	8. Eight

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* * *

Sunlight streamed in from a small gap between the curtains, gradually filling the room with the light of morning.

From behind closed eyes, Mia knew it was that time again— the _morning_. And it was only a matter of time before Mey-Rin would come to wake her. Or, even worse, Sebastian. He never held any sympathy for her in the morning, whereas the maid would sometimes let her get a few more precious moments of sleep if the demon in question was particularly busy.

Therefore she braced for the worst, and was nearly alarmed when there was no sound of a door opening or closing. No footsteps, no curtains being pulled to let in the glaring brightness of the sun. Nothing. Maybe a sensible person would be alarmed, and assume something went wrong.

But, the twenty-three year old never claimed to be entirely sensible, nor was she feeling particularly adult all snuggled up in the comforter.

_Screw it, I'm going back to sleep._

As far as she could tell the manor wasn't under attack, or otherwise burning to the ground, so what could it hurt?

By the time Mia finally rolled out of bed (nearing _noon_) the rest of the house was awake, working on whatever tasks were laid out before them. And she was in pajamas, with bed-head, sitting uncharacteristically quiet at the table in the dining room. Staff weren't technically allowed to sit there, but she wasn't actually staff, therefore it hardly mattered.

"How on Earth are you still half-asleep?" A young kid should not sound that grown up, even if he was sipping tea like a perfect noble, looking entirely too amused at her state.

"It probably had something to do with the lack of a early wake up call. Or, any wake up call. There is such a thing as sleeping too much."

Rubbing her eyes, she could _feel_ the moment he strode into the room, setting down a cup of coffee before her. Strong, judging by how easily the smell drifted upward.

Maybe there were _some_ upsides to this madness.

"Here I thought you would enjoy the opportunity to rest more. I shall certainly endeavor to not be so generous." _And there it went. _

Blowing a bit on her coffee (which she was sure wasn't even that hot, because he is too perfect at his job to give her coffee that is not exactly to her liking) she hummed faintly, "I don't remember asking you to be generous."

More than used to this particular ritual between the two, Ciel didn't even _bother_ intervening; at least, not yet. While the rest of his staff actively avoided being near the duo in these moments, he found them to rather— enlightening in many ways. It also added a strange sense of normalcy to his home, where less than normal things occurred daily.

His parents, too, would bicker occasionally, as did most couples. Perhaps never to this degree in frequency or intensity, but it was welcomed all the same. While there was time for it, at any rate.

"Even so, you have it. I suggest you pull yourself together as quickly as possible, and eat the meal that has been saved for you in the kitchen. We shall be taking a trip into town to visit someone of importance."

Mind clearing a bit of it's sleepiness, she seems to recall a mention about this little excursion the other day. _Looks like we may finally get some answers, good or bad._ "It doesn't take me that long to get— wait. Why can't you just bring it out here?"

"Now, that _would_ be generous."

If nothing else, he definitely made top marks for keeping her in a near perpetual state of irritation just in _spite_ of her.

xxx

Twisting the end of her braid, she tried not to feel too weird sitting in the same room as Ciel. Not because he was doing anything odd, but, it was strange to think that — probably sometime soon — he would be dead.

All because of a deal with a demon she was conveniently (hopefully, temporarily) tied to. Her lips pressed into a frown, gaze pointedly focusing at anything in the study but the boy.

Was she was suppose to be _okay_ with this?

"If you continue to make that face, you will be stuck like that forever. At least, that was something I was always told."

It was on the tip of her tongue, things she shouldn't say, because really it wasn't any of her business what he did nor not, and it wasn't her fault if he got eaten. Kids died every day. People died every day. This was no different—

"—Please tell me you smart enough to realize what you're doing is stupid, and you plan on pulling a fast one on Sebastian? He would definitely deserve it. And even if you're an insufferable brat most of the time, I think you deserve to not get dragged to hell with him. Literally and theoretically."

"Why the concern?"

"I've been told I can maternal quite suddenly, and at the worst of times. It's also not a very consistent feeling, but, there you go."

"The deal I made with Sebastian is absolute— on both of our ends, as far as I'm aware. I could be wrong, however, I have no intention of backing out. If there ever was a time for that, it's long since passed. I know the consequences of my actions, and I won't regret any of it. I may be on borrowed time that's ticking down, but this is more time than I would have had, were it not for summoning him. The price is far too much for most to pay, but I have nothing else left of true value. To be given the chance to find those responsible for the death of my parents, and rid the world of some other evils along the way, makes the prospect of it all worth it. I barely feel alive as it is; I may as well use this opportunity to my advantage."

"No wonder he came to you: you're both selfish opportunists."

Offense was not taken, nor was it, in all actuality, meant. It was a fact. He was selfish, and he was opportunistic, among other things. "In my line of work, those traits help me make England less dangerous for those who's hearts are too soft for this world. I may not be a bright-eyed, innocent child, but I do what needs to be done."

Who told him he could be so cynical and grown up at his age?

"Yeah, well I'm still going to be pissy about it."

"By all means, do so. It will serve as more proof that I existed."

When the time comes, only memories others held of him would be any indication he was here, that amongst his revenge-riddled plot, he managed to take down some rather unappetizing characters along the way.

xxx

"You certainly had an interesting conversation with my Master."

The carriage seemed stupidly small now, with it's extremely limited options for ignoring the person — _being_ — across from her. "Does privacy have no concept for you, or are you just deliberately obtuse when you want to be?"

Oh, if only his picture of innocence wasn't muddled by entertained, glowing red eyes and pointed teeth. She doesn't recall when he started freely showing bits of his true self around her, but thus far it hasn't stopped making her nervous. Maybe not as much as the first time, where she was sure he was just going to kill her and have it over and done with, but it was still there.

And she was still surprised he hadn't tried to maim her. After all, she had been particularly…._rowdy_ that afternoon, and said a few things she really should not have. Not simply because of what he was, but it was— uncalled for, and he was genuinely offended.

So much so, that the next day he was utterly unreasonable and snippy with everyone. Who knew demons had more than one singular emotion?

She definitely didn't, and realizing it was a bit of an eye opener. A small one, but one nonetheless. That night she apologized, and he was calmer.

Of course, there was still an apology _pending_ on his end. Multiple, in fact; yes, she was keeping count, and no, she wasn't going to forget, much to his dismay.

He was the one that suggested civility; so he would need to put fourth some effort, too.

"Some things cannot be helped. I have excellent hearing. To not eavesdrop, I would have needed to leave the estate entirely. I was not listening in outside the door, like some punished animal seeking entrance. However, I attempted to not purposefully pay attention."

That was _something_, she supposed. Maybe. "Then you won't mind if I purposefully avoid this conversation. The topic may not be a big deal to you, but it is to somme people."

His head canted to the side faintly, before his posture straightened once more, and she was left feeling very much like a small worm being stared down by a ravenous hawk. "Very well. But, before you further judge what will come to pass between the Young Master and I — think of what your own kind does to survive, and tell me which is kinder."

By some miracle, Mia managed to avoid simply _lashing_ out at him like she wanted to. With a deep, calming breath, she thoughts were organized before she spoke, with obvious restraint. "What you do isn't out of kindness. It's out of selfishness, and you manipulate terrible situations to have hope. But it's falsified, and done with only your interest in mind. You give them more time, a chance to do something they may not have otherwise been able to, but then it's over. And then what? Do you ever think of them again? I'm guessing not. There is no thought given to lives you probably ruined by taking away someone that others may have loved and grieve for. You just move on to the next one who fits the bill, without a care."

To him, she wouldn't be surprised if all the faces had just blended together over the years; none truly more significant than the last. Those moments in time not even worth remembering to someone who was eternity. She didn't know exactly what it meant to be a demon, or who one become as such, but she knew what it was like to be human. To lose someone, or see how others mourned the loss of their loved one— it broke her heart. Maybe she was too human, and he was too demon, detached from the world he plundered.

And she couldn't help being so _upset_, "Not every person is a saint, but at least some of us have the decency to feel bad when someone dies, even if we had nothing to do with it. You don't do that, or respect anything or anyone. And _that's_ what makes you worse. At least we learn with age, realize our mistakes or how awful we acted before we go. What's your excuse?"

Sebastian opted to refrain from saying anything the remainder of the ride, all the while her words soaked into his brain, replaying over and over— despite his best efforts to get it to _stop_.

xxx

Undertaker's shop was dark and damp, to say the least, littered with coffins of all dimensions, almost lovingly scattered around. Already fairly silent, it was made more so with the absence of anger-inspiring remarks from the butler behind her, who still hadn't spoken.

Opened the door for her, yes; gave a vague sound in acknowledgement to her thank-you, yes; but nothing more.

The silver lining was, he did not seem peeved. Deep in thought would definitely be a more appropriate description, though what the demon was thinking about exactly, she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to know.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

A man with long, grey hair, dressed in robes was a far cry from the Undertaker she had conceptualized in her mind. For one, he was alive (presumably) and not a skeleton with a scythe. He looked normal-ish enough, from the outside. His tone of voice was amused, matching the lazy grin that curled on his features.

Oh, and look—- long nails.

_Can nothing be normal?_

Sebastian stepped forward, clearing his throat slightly, drawing the other's attention away from her. "We are here on personal business."

"Is that so—?" Undertaker drawled faintly with a laugh, chin resting in his palm, outrageously long nails cradling his cheek. "You know the price for information, butler."

Blinking, she was more than a tad bewildered she suddenly found herself turned around, with gloved hands moving her own over her ears. "I suggest you don't listen."

"Protecting my lady-like sensibilities, are you?"

"Certainly not. You're hardly a _lady_."

The demon's smile was faintly easing, even though she couldn't tell if it was real, or not. After all, how often has he had to smile because it was expected of him in his human guise?

A tiny part of her hoped it was real.

Pressing her palms against her ears until no sound got through, she couldn't help but think how exhausting it was constantly being at war with him. There never seemed to be any break, with only few small moments of civilized peace.

In those moments, he as actually kind of—_okay_.

Drumming her fingers on her head, there was no way to tell exactly how much time passed before he removed her hands. But, judging by the giggling, long-haired man bending over his desk, it went over well.

"…..What the hell did you say to him? Or _do_?"

"Perhaps if you ask nicely, I shall tell you later." He wasn't even mocking her, either; he was being sincere.

Demons and sincerity did not seem like they belonged together; and yet, neither did demons and humans. But here they were, and apparently, it wasn't all that out of the ordinary.

That was something Sebastian had more or less already mentioned, though she hadn't thought it was that common. Just how many demons _existed_? Clearly a lot, and a good portion of them were in the same boat.

Kind of.

"I truly do not see the issue at hand. It's not as if you are the first to be tied to each other's species, and none of them — as far as my mind can recall — ever had this much trouble getting along." It was then that his grin widened, hidden gaze falling intently between the two. "If only there was some way to channel the _tension_ elsewhere, I'm sure this would sort itself out."

Neither of them missed that suggestion, and Mia didn't even dare to look over at the demon. Honestly, she didn't trust herself not to laugh at the idea — or worse,_ entertain_ it, even if not seriously. It wouldn't be good for her mental health (which was already slipping), she was sure.

"Unless I missed something, I don't think we asked for commentary on our nonexistent sex life. All we need to know if it's permanent, or if it can be broken; that's it."

"No one has ever broken the _link_ before, my child. It's simply unheard of!" Scratching his cheek faintly, the shinigami shook his head, utterly astonished at the silliness before him. Perhaps they were too young to recognize, let alone appreciate, the gift that has been given. "Even if there were a way, which I truly think there is not, it would likely be incredibly painful, for the both of you. As it is even I can see the stubbornness between you two is already taking a toll. Perhaps not in the way of pain, but in other areas. An incomplete link causes much more than just an almost annoying desire to be near, it causes instability. Loss of focus, chaos in the mind and body."

All of it sounded far too familiar, because she knew it to be true. There were no mentions of it aloud, naturally, but it hadn't gone unnoticed. Her attitude at the simplest of things, Sebastian's usual sharp nature being just a hair off-point. At times he was even notably distracted.

"The link is meant to bring peace and balance. A life-long partner to share the burden of eternity with."

On paper, it sounded wonderful. Like a pretty fairytale with a happy ending, but that's why they were stories; reality never went so smoothly. It was too much to digest, too much that couldn't be accepted just like _that_. Soulmates were supposed to complete your life, not completely uproot it in the worst of ways.

"I don't recall signing up for that, and I have my own _burdens_ to worry about, too, you know. I'm not even meant to be here, for one; I have a family, friends and a life _away_ from this. Some people dream of getting married with someone they adore, but that wasn't me — I never wanted to play house. And, in case you haven't noticed, he doesn't want me either. The system is _broken_."

Storming out wasn't the most mature idea, but her mind was set, and neither of them tried to stop her. She didn't care if they kept talking, they could talk all the wanted; but she couldn't listen to how something she didn't want was good for her. Maybe other people wanted to be in this situation.

She'd gladly trade places with them.

xxx

The following days at the manor were quiet enough, with a few visitors that didn't seem to make it home.

At this point, Mia didn't even want to ask; she didn't want to know. Whatever was going on was, at present, outside her realm of concern. Thankfully she had been allowed a few days off, which were spent — almost exclusively — in her room.

Mey-Rin stopped by a few times, as did Bard and Finny; they even shared a late dinner one night, when everyone else (re: Ciel) retired for the night. Amidst toning down her laughter as they ate, she could feel him outside the door. Not directly, but she knew he was still up and about the manor.

Like a predator patrolling it's territory.

That wasn't far off, in all likelihood, but she attempted not to dwell on it too much, especially when Finny stuck asparagus up his nose. It was meant to get a good laugh, and it did. Yet, even surrounded by these people she was slowly getting to know more and more, she still felt entirely out of place. Quite literally time-tossed, she wondered if it would always feel this way— and if she would ever see her own time again.

_Maybe_, she thought grimly, undoing her braid after the others had left, _All I'd need to do is wait a few hundred years_.

Knuckles rapping on the door made her blink, albeit sleepily. Given the hour, there was a very short list of possibilities as to who it would be. So short, in fact, that it only had one name.

"Come in."

Soft footfalls announced the presence, and she didn't even need to turn around to see who it was. The tall shadow in the corner was more than enough. "I've merely come to inform you that tomorrow, the Young Master and I will likely be gone well before you awaken. An urgent case requires the Earl's attention, and we may be gone for a few days yet- on top of that, we've received tickets to see Noah's Ark Circus. I trust you will help ensure his home is still standing upon our return?"

Mussing up her hair with her fingers, the wavy strands fell into a more natural, relaxed appearance. "Yeah, alright."

She nearly winced at how very unenthusiastic she sounded.

"_Mia_."

"What?"

His fingers twitched at his sides, and she just knew he was resisting the urge to rub at his temples. But that would be too human, wouldn't it? "A little more ardor would be appreciated."

"It's not my job to look after this place, Sebastian." Padding over to the bed, she fluffed the pillows, despite the fact that it was rather unnecessary. Anything to keep her distracted was a godsend, though.

"Yes, I know."

_Good lord._

"Don't agree with me, it makes me very uncomfortable."

A light chuckle escaped, and she wondered if it had been entirely accidental or not. It was really difficult reading a demon who was very careful with what he let show, be it verbal or physical, after all. "—Even so, I _trust_ you to do it all the same."

Her hand paused mid-air, eyes slightly wide in astonishment, staring incredulously at the butler, even as he bowed out. The door shut quietly behind him, leaving her stunned.

Not just because he mentioned he trusted her to take care of the mansion (though apparently not bake bread), but because they didn't argue. Not even a hint of one happening manifested.

It was calm; it was civil.

It was— borderline friendly.

_Okay, slight amendment: that makes me uncomfortable._

* * *

_A/N ( 08/13/14 )_: I'm always slightly irked when, in similar stories despite how much I adore them, Sebastian's lady ( if not a demon or other supernatural creature ) always pretty easily accepts that their dude kills people, essentially. Granted, yeah, he does need to eat, but I cannot imagine, even if I were madly in love with this beautiful, demonic asshat ( shoutout to you, ARC, for reminding me of my favorite word! ) that I would just be like, 'Oh, OK!'. It would definitely be a process of acceptance, because it does need to happen, but it would still be fairly unsettling for a while. A long while.

Like at least a hundred years, because hey, I'm human, and why would I think like a demon when I'm not? Likewise, it's unrealistic to expect a demon to just turn on a switch and behave like a demon. Growth is possible, but it ain't easy with all these cultural ( & in this case, species ) barriers!

Anywho, thank you all for the feedback, it truly does help keep me motivated!


	9. Nine

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.

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**warning:** slight spoilers for Book of Circus (as shown in the manga).

* * *

True to his words, they were indeed gone before she got up.

Unsurprisingly, there was not a particularly long note detailing the reason for the departure— merely that they were needed in London, and would be seeing a show while there.

No estimate was given for a return date, but she assumed it would be a few days, at least, especially if they were to check out the circus. Maybe for that point alone, Mia was a bit bummed; she couldn't even remember the last time she saw that type of show. But there was little point in sulking about that when the entire Phanthomhive manor was being left in her care. The thought may have made her twitch a bit.

_Alright, no problem. You can keep the place from burning down for a few days. How hard could it be?_

They were all adults. It was perfectly reasonable to expect that nothing outrages would happen in such a short span of time. But that was taking out the very real facts that explosions and mishaps occurred daily.

Too bad a bottle of Advil hadn't made it back to the eighteen hundreds with her— she had a feeling it would be incredibly useful. They didn't even make it until eleven o'clock before the first disaster struck, in the form of pie catching fire in the oven. Mey-Rin's voice erupted through the entire estate, quickly followed by Finny running _through_ doors, and Bard being far too amused by the blaze ( and consequently, chaos ) that had begun.

Man, did they really pick the wrong girl for this job.

xxx

"Who let Mey-Rin do the laundry?"

"—Oh no. Please tell me Finny did not just fall through the ceiling. Please, _please_."

"Bard, that is not what a gun is used for!"

In another life, she might have been a sheep herder. That was the only way to explain how damn good she was at rounding up the other members of the staff, minus Tanaka, who was always well out of the way, and not causing trouble.

And, oh, the _damage_.

Both kitchen doors were off their hinges, the washroom was overflowing with bubbles leaving the clothes soaking on the floor, and two holes decorated the ceiling. One from Finny falling through the other from bard shooting at because there was a ( reportedly ) big spider. Now, she can certainly understand, and appreciate, how startled someone can get when face-to-face with a sizable spider.

She, herself, might've tried to _kill it with fire_, but hey, if she burned down her own home, that was one thing. Burning ( or shooting up ) someone else's place was a different story.

The damages could have definitely been worse, but she definitely didn't want Ciel and Sebastian to come back to see even the smallest of dents. Frustratingly enough, knowing the butler, he probably would see if something was even a centimeter out of place.

_Stupid demons and their superhuman bullshit. _

It would take her the entire day, maybe more, to get everything fixed and cleaned properly, but he could probably do it in three minutes— probably less. Too bad she didn't have a small 'Sebastian bell' that would summon him, because that would be pretty useful right about now; a little supernatural help never hurt anyone, right?

_Well_.

Either way, it wasn't about to happen, which meant a few calls needed to be made, before any more holes appeared in the ceiling— or something worse happened. Like a fire courtesy of a flamethrower that somehow still existed in the mansion. _Because the kid hasn't had to deal with the destruction of fire enough. _

"So, who knows the number to a good handyman?"

xxx

For the next few days, everyone lived in a glass box. No one touched anything with supervision, and no one got in the way of the godly men and women who came to fix the place up. The name Phantomhive held _quite_ a bit of weight, and they were all too happy to lend their talents.

The garden was spruced, the ceiling completely repaired, and singed walls made good as new. All the whole the only job five of them had was to make sure no one stole anything — that would be pretty _stupid_, but after chasing a trigger-happy Bard throughout the mansion, she wasn't about to make this bit of good be for nought. _Oh, yeah, everything looks great, but we seem to have misplaced the couch? No idea how that happened. _

Despite there technically being no reason to be fearful, knowing a certain individual wasn't patrolling made it surprisingly difficult the sleep. After all, the mansion was big, and sometimes things creaked— more often still, it was just her imagination acting up. But there was definitely something incredibly ironic about feeling safer with a demon about. Maybe that was because he could react at a moment's notice, since sleep didn't seem to be something he needed.

It could just be the bond getting in the way though, too, at least a little bit. As much as she would like to just claim it was that annoying link and nothing more, it wouldn't have been the truth. She did feel safer with him around, and unsurprisingly, so did everyone else. Why wouldn't they? While serving Ciel, they had nothing to fear, and would always fall under his umbrella of protection.

In her case, she supposed that umbrella would never end. Both figuratively and literally, it would be impossible to escape him, and he, her. When people spoke about eternities together, it always sounded so unnecessarily romantic, and cheesy. In light of what her own 'forever' was likely to bring, cheesy romance would be a welcomed alternative.

At least then it wouldn't be something to dread, but something….nice? Then again, maybe the constant atmosphere of happy go lucky love would annoy her after a certain point.

She was hardly the best person to judge, seeing as that sort of thing was never really experienced first-hand. _Lust_ she was familiar with, and was even indulged in a few times for the sake of it. But even with the best of men (and once, woman), staying longer than that never happened.

Odds are, it was out of fear of rejection, or a fear of getting too close only to getting hurt, something most human beings tried to avoid whenever possible. There was just never any desire to try, really. And now, the possibility to do so at some point had been stolen, much like his opportunity to be with someone more suitable for his necessary lifestyle.

These thoughts, and many others collided far too loudly in her head, making it impossible for the time-tossed woman to sleep easily. Not until the sun was peeking through to her room did she enough peace to doze off into a fitful slumber.

Hours later, well into the evening, she was awoken by the piercing sounds of a _fight_, the air laced with shouting and screams.

_Holy shit. _

Bodies.

Half-burnt, riddled with bullet holes, they were strewn in the hall, in the _kitchen_. Lifeless, dressed in outfits one would expect to see in the circus. Extravagant patterns and styles that were meant to be theatrical. It was eerie, to the say the least, especially since Sebastian and Ciel got tickets to a circus in town. She doubted there was more than one passing through at the same time, meaning these people (she couldn't even tell how old they were, or who was a man or woman, due to the massacre that occured) were apart of Noah's Ark Circus. Everything was stained red, torn, and singed— the fire was Bard's work, she suspected. But the bigger, more pressing issue was:

_Why the fuck did the manor become a graveyard?_

The voice of reason came in the form of the eldest Phanthomhive butler, who, while perhaps not particularly joyous about the mess and slaughter, was far more level-headed than she was at the sight.

"I assure you, Miss Gordon, it was necessary." Oh, Tanaka. If only it was possible to be as calm about it as he sounded, life would be great. Wonderful, even. Just when she thought things could be somewhat normal, it went and showed just how abnormal everything was, and how clueless she was to just about everything in this world. "They were attempting to storm the manner, you see. And strict orders have been given to ensure no one with the intent to do harm, goes unpunished."

Fingers pressing to her temple, it was all that could be done to avoid having a nervous breakdown because _everyone was so casual about death_ and really it _was not fucking okay, good lord_. "—Who's orders? Wait, on second thought, I think I know."

_Goddamn it Sebastian_.

xxx

They returned later that day, and boy, they were going to have some _words_.

"Do you care to explain to me," Mia began with tense muscles as soon as Ciel was put to bed, leaving her and Sebastian alone in the kitchen— it was a strangely comfortable place to speak, for whatever reason. "…why I wasn't given a warning that there was a very real possibility that, oh, by the way, _people might be trying to storm the manor_? And let's not forget the little fact that _the staff are trained killers by night?" _

"I had thought that dropping such potentially alarming situation before leaving might cause some issues; as it is, you are overreacting quite a bit."

"Just because I'm reacting like a normal human does not mean I'm overreacting, you ja—"

"Now, now, there is no need for _name calling_." She could practically hear him grinning while she sat on the kitchen island, knuckles turning white from how tightly the edge was gripped beneath her fingers.

"—_Jackass_. Don't _act_ like one then and I won't have to say it. That's how social courtesy works, Sebastian."

The almost pained, frustrated sigh was like music to her ears. "…..I'll admit, it was one of my poorer decisions. But what occured this evening was, in fact, necessary. Those you saw were involved with the kidnapping of dozens of children. Each town they performed in, at least one child would vanish. While I am far from the most righteous being alive, I'm certain even you can agree that the world, already so corrupt, is slightly better with the circus troupe taken care of."

"Fine, alright, but that's _not_ the point. It isn't exactly standard to have people blown up in the living room and then just sweep it under the wrong like it's not a big deal. It is a big deal and waking up to it was not appreciated at all."

"Nothing about this household is standard, Mia. I had thought that was obvious."

"Yeah, well it's a little too obvious for my taste right now." Nose scrunching slightly, she gave in to the manufactured urge to run her fingers through his hair, and it was more than allowed; his head bowed to give more access.

The weirdness level of life here never seemed to stop climbing.

"So sorry." For someone apologizing, he still sounded far too pleased with himself, earning a sharp tug of dark hair.

If only their link came with an instruction manual, moments like these wouldn't be so shell shocking. "_This_ should come with a pamphlet. You know, 'What to Expect' and all that. It's getting stranger by the day. Sometimes it almost tricks me into thinking you're not half bad, but then you say or do something that reminds me I still don't really like you."

"For better or for worse, emotional attachment is not a prerequisite for bond. I suspect in time our mutual indifference shall subside, if only because it will become so _tiring_."

Funny.

It kind of already was.

Shaking her head, she pushed him away with the tips of her feet, trying her hardest not to laugh at how ridiculous everything was. "Alright, I think that's enough affection for one day."

"If you call _that_ affection." Disappointment was palpable in the air.

Still, there was no way she going to get the influence of the bond completely rule her decisions, especially if they clashed with her own wants (or lack thereof). As it was, Mia was already bending in that area for the sake of not feeling entirely on edge, which is all she's felt the last few days.

Even just having him back on the grounds made breathing a little easier, much to her annoyance.

_Go figure_ it had incentives to not be separated for long; who the hell wanted to feel like that? "Well, that's the best I've got right now. I haven't really slept, and I'm more unhappy with you now than usual."

"What motives have I to behave better without positive reinforcement?"

"You are being so _selfish_ right now."

_Screw positive reinforcement,_ she wanted a good night's rest before she decided to tackle this other problem fully. Right now, though? He could go ahead and ponder what it really meant to be bound to her: a particularly stubborn human woman.

One who wasn't about to take any of his _bullshit_.

* * *

_A/N_ ( 08/18/14 ): Firstly, I am sorry this is a bit short _and_ late, lovelies! I intended to update sooner, on Friday & then on Sunday, but some slightly (now resolved) issues in life got in the way! Generally I will aim to update at least every other day if allowed to. If that does not work, you can always expect an update every Monday. Oh, and Monica, you are very welcome, and I am also quite flattered — I hope you continue to enjoy IDT! 8) Fun fact, I wrote this chapter while watching (for the hundredth time, I'm sure) Dirty Dancing, my ultimate romantic movie. As always, thank you all for your support & please continue to leave feedback to let me know what you think!

**EDIT**: 8/19/14- Hopefully I've made the timeline of this story a little less confusing! This does indeed take place during the Circus Arc ( so S3 of the anime ). There are some _slight_ spoilers here, but it's nothing that isn't already well documented on the internet; though to avoid seriously spoiling it, I made sure to keep things fairly vague.


	10. Ten

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* * *

Mia did her best not to dwell on, or mention, the events that surrounded Noah's Ark Circus; most of what happened was being kept under tight lock and key. The bit she was so gracious told, didn't exactly paint the circus in a good light.

Not that she was any less traumatized by the experience, of course.

If nothing else, this provided a perfect opportunity to catch glimpses of what an utter worry-wart Sebastian could be. Maybe he could just sense her general distress and it made him distressed, or maybe some subconscious part of his brain was telling him to show what a _good_ mate he could be— either way, the entire week he seemed to be serving her more than Ciel. Unless absolutely dire, of course. But afternoon tea and sweets could wait an extra minute or two, if an offered snack was accepted.

Being waited on definitely had it's perks — no _wonder_ everyone wanted to be rich, they wouldn't have to life a damn _finger_ — but she could only take it so much without it making her feel invalid. Plus, it wasn't really her choice of lifestyle, so anything more than a temporary indulgence was more or less out of the question.

That much he certainly seemed to be able to pick up on easily enough. "A human who does not actively seek to be pampered is quite unusual from my experience." Pouring some more of her preferred cup of coffee, he was, in many ways, pleased to see she was already reaching for the milk and sugar. It was unusual for someone not to expect him to simply do things, however it was an interesting, and welcomed, change.

She gave a tentative taste from her cup, ensuring it wasn't too sweet, nor too hot, before a more fulfilling sup was taken. _Perfect._ Those overly sweet frappe's were nice on a hot summer day, but right now nothing beat a strong cup of coffee. Except maybe the coffee and a donut, like a _true _American_._

"Don't get me wrong, it's nice, but I don't like sitting around and having everything done for me. Most people in my time are the same— they might like a few days now and then where that isn't the case, but mostly we really like getting that sense of accomplishment. I'm sure there are still people who are completely spoiled, but they're outnumbered by the amount of people who've worked their asses off to get what they have, and take pride in what they did."

"It seems as though many things will change. Moreso than I could have ever anticipated at this moment; but, I have seen humanity evolve from the beginning. Continuing to do so will be….interesting, to say the least." His head turned toward the kitchen, hearing the tell-tale ring of his master requesting his presence, and likely, something sweet to eat.

Unluckily for the Earl, the demon was quite adamant about upholding a new diet for him, whether he liked it or not. Make so mistake, Ciel was not very pleased with Sebastian's decision on the matter. As such, he made sure not to mention it had been Mia's idea— after all, they had such potential to form a close bond

The butler's aesthetic to was to place his Master's well-being above all else; it had become abundantly clear that social interaction was, more often than not, required.

While the young heir would hardly admit to it, even after a tense conversation with Mia (or an afternoon spent in the company of the other staff members) he seemed more at ease. Allowing him a proper chance indulge in a basic human need was certainly the least he could do, while still in possession of his soul.

"Interesting good, or interesting bad? And yes, there is a distinction."

Tearing his thoughts away from his little lord, he was, at first, a tad perplexed by her meaning. Interesting was simply that to him: _interesting_. And many things in the mortal realm were interesting, even if fleetingly. But, if forced to name it precisely, "I believe it is in a good way, though that does not matter as much to myself. As you can imagine, I have lived a long life— longer than most could possibly ever fathom. Very little surprises me, or holds my attention. Any break in the, often repetitive, nature of my existence is like a breath of fresh air."

_That was surprisingly…deep? Guess sooner or later, I'll really know the meaning behind those words, too. How the hell do you keep from getting bored?_

All in all, she couldn't help grinning to herself as she finished off the last bit of her coffee, and purposefully waited until he was preparing to tend to Ciel's needs before speaking, "You're old as _hell_."

She was definitely counting his sudden chuckle as a win.

_Puns_, of all things, made a demon laugh. Who knew?

xxx

No one in the mansion seemed to be making a sound.

Everything was quiet, and serene, much to the butler's enjoyment. Seldom was there ever a day wherein firearms were not shot inside the household, nor a disaster ready to unfold due to the staff's incompetence with their mundane tasks.

That is, until:

"What, exactly, is the point of this so-called game?"

Ciel's voice echoed through the hall, only faintly drawing his attention away from the paperwork that laid out before him. As customary, he handled the Funtom Company's finances, ensuring the steady growth and stability of sales, and investments. It was idle, but necessary work.

Normally at this hour, his Young Lord was enjoying time away from his own work — no letters from the Queen, no parties, no fiancee barging through the door. Moments like these were few and far in between. Though saddled with a (mostly) mature disposition, the Earl was still a child in many ways. Games being a prime example. It was not surprising at all to hear he was engaging in one; though, not one of his choosing, it seemed.

That was probably for the best. Ciel Phanthomhive thrived on games he had already cracked, after all.

"To avoid falling while looking ridiculous."

Sebastian's brow furrowed faintly. No game he was familiar with had that kind of objective— nor did his Lord participate in physical play.

"We've already accomplished that."

"Yeah, well the round doesn't end until someone falls. And judging by your weak ankles, I'm gonna assume you're going to fall first. (_pause_) Right foot on blue, Phantomhive."

While not exceptionally familiar with games humans tended to play, this did not sound like one he had ever heard of, let alone seen or heard his Master play. He tended to prefer board games that required strategy and critical thinking. Somehow, the demon doubted whatever game Mia roped Ciel into playing was any of those things.

It was the sudden burst if sound emanating from the lounge that prompted him to set aside the small pile of paperwork in favor of satisfying the bubbling curiosity that had grown. The noises continued, having tapered off only slightly as he stood outside the door — distinct laughter from Mia, mixed in with half-hearted grumbling belonging to the Earl. Gloved fingers gently pushed open the door, and almost immediately his brows rose, threatening to disappear into his bangs.

"What on Earth are you two doing?"

A sheet was spread out on the floor, covered in large spots, is ghastly shades of color that were too bright to possibly look fashionable together. Yet there they were, tangled mess of limbs in a strange display of balance, feet and hands centered on various colors while they attempted to remain upright.

Utterly contorted, he briefly wondered if this was some form of modern _torture_, and were it not for the amusement he sensed radiating from both of them, he likely would have continued to do so.

His futuristic mate (_that would still take some getting used to_) was the first to speak, perhaps because Ciel looked a tad embarrassed at having been caught in such a strange position by his butler. "We're just playing a game. Or, trying to. _Someone_ keeps complaining about it every step of the way."

"This is ridiculous—"

"Sometimes a little ridiculous does people some good. You're only like twelve and you are already so damn uptight, it's sickening."

"I'm _thirteen_."

"Because that makes it _less_ worrying."

"If I may interject, the Young Lord is simply mature beyond his years, and has isolated his more childish behavior to restrained tantrums upon not receiving his desired sweets, and the odd board game." If that hadn't been ready to push Ciel to promptly leave, Mey-Rin appearing at the door with a newly received letter from his fiancee definitely did the trick.

Which left her dusting off imaginary dirt from her trousers, before beginning to pull her boots back on. "Has anyone ever told you how mean you can be?"

"Yes, though you've certainly done so more than most. However, can the truth truly be mean, when it is merely fact, stated aloud?"

"Of course it can, it's all in how you say it to people. Though this is where a criticism sandwich come in handy, to avoid sounding like an asshole, while still saying what you want. You acknowledge something positive, then give your criticism constructively, and then end with, again, something nice. Gets the job done, no one feels belittled, and it's usually taken to heart, in a good way."

"Humans are so very fragile, in mind and body, it seems."

"…Well, that's what makes us human I guess? We can be pretty strong and brave and do all of these things, but things other people think about us can really hurt— especially if we hold that someone in high esteem. And, for the record, he holds you in very high esteem. Not just because you can do all of this crazy shit, but because you're the only thing he allows himself to count on one hundred percent of the time. Also, clearly you aren't a moron, which helps a lot, I think."

He watched idly as she pulled her hair up into what she had called a 'messy bun', attempting not to smile too proudly. Their strides were small, but certainly far from nonexistent. "Was that a compliment?"

"Maybe, but I'll never tell. I'm more interested in seeing what you have planned for dinner. I can't remember a time when I never had to eat leftovers because there was something different every day. Your recipe list must be _insane_."

Three hundred sixty five days a year; breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with ample snacks in between to keep his Lord content. Two years and never has he served the same thing twice within a six month period— perhaps even more. Unless specifically requested for, or particularly liked, naturally.

Lips quirking upward in the corners, he appeared thoughtful for a moment, before allowing a a lazy gaze to sweep over to Mia. Her hair could be rather lovely, even when in such a mussed state.

"It is rather extensive."

xxx

Fingers working through the assortment of cards while sitting on the far end of the counter, she stayed out of the way while the demon worked on dinner preparations; for once, not at all frustrated by her presence.

Delicious aromas had already begun lifting into the air, spices and herbs that were handled with care and precision. She doesn't think she's ever seen someone cook so smoothly, fully confident in their decisions without the need to constantly check the time. The only time he did so was to ensure he was on schedule — but everything else simply seemed to be instinctual.

And, he hadn't been lying about his recipe collection.

It was incredibly packed, and filled with things she had never heard of, but there wasn't anything in there that didn't sound delicious. Unsurprisingly, there was as many dessert selects as there were for dinner. Of which, she noted, there were more reduced-sugar ( or entirely sugar free ) ones that seemed to be recently added.

It was probably for his own benefit in the end, but it was still fairly telling that he had actually taken her advice. At least it showed he wasn't as _thick headed_ all the time. There was still plenty about him that was still infuriating, but a glimmer of hope shined in the bleak sentencing of her future. Sebastian didn't _have to_ be a dick.

He just _wanted_ to be one.

"We should have a latin night. Or Mexican. Gourmet food is great and all, but I've been subconsciously dying for a rice and means — or a few tacos loaded with sour cream — for almost two weeks."

"I am unsure how the Young Master will respond—"

"There isn't anyone alive with working taste buds who doesn't like tacos. They can even be _high class_ tacos if you want. Too bad Doritos haven't been invented yet."

"Doritos?"

"…..Don't worry about it. You'll see them _eventually_."

_Because we're going to be around when it makes it's debut. _

Now that was a dangerous train of thought, wasn't it? She'll get to see things most people only ever read about, she live through the eras and experience it all. But it'll be decades before she gets to see her family and friends again — and to them, it will only be a few days since they saw each other. That was going to be….difficult.

Being saddled with Sebastian was, at present, looking only slightly better than facing all that time alone. Of course most people had time to acclimate to one another, and decide if they were likable enough before deciding to be together. This was no such case, so she couldn't be too surprised that it was _bumpy_.

Downright bat-shit crazy, to tell the truth.

And maybe it was all an intricate, long dream that she would wake up from; perhaps brought on by a fever. The possibilities were endless. If it wasn't, though, there really wasn't any choice but to handle it day-by-day and try not to get lost in the madness.

"I will consider it."

_What._

"I said, I shall consider your request." Oh, man. Did she say that out loud?

"That would be….great? If it wouldn't be too much of a bother, I'd really like to start helping out again. Preferably in here, even if it's just cleaning up after. You may not have noticed, but I'm starting to get really bored, and I'm staring to get cabin fever. Maybe whenever you go out to get supplies I could go, so I don't feel like a complete prisoner?"

His immaculate chopping skills were hardly phased by her request, though she could see his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. "You are far from a prisoner, Mia. It isn't as if you are locked up in the manor." Given their situation, and the added implication of her not belonging in this particular year, it was to be expected to a degree.

But that did not ease the sense of dissatisfaction that came with it.

"I didn't mean I felt locked up." _Just chained to you._

Extra care had been taken to ensure she did not speak what was on her mind, though she easily could have; in the end, the unspoken confession seemed to be inferred soon after. If given the choice, avoidance could be much more truthful than confrontation in some regards.

Her lack of eye-contact (which usually _was_ given) gave him the answer needed.

Placing the chopped vegetables in a bowl to marinate, the impact of what she very clearly felt settled on his mind. Misplaced in history, tangled in an unwanted arrangement, and left without any clues or reasons as to why had to be frustrating, and even maddening. Left in this world that she had little first-hand knowledge of, and kept cooped up in the mansion — though luxurious — must feel no better than an extravagant was no fault of her own.

Though it should have, it did not occur to him that venturing outside of the Phanthomhive grounds would be beneficial in more ways than one. Odd, as it should have; yet, perhaps he was still too caught up in his own displeasure to come to that conclusion on his own.

And, thus far, he was not giving many reasons, if any, to be considered trustworthy or particularly likable outside of the civil realm. Hostilities had died down, certainly, yet there was still quite a bit that remained a mystery. Not only to the reason for her arrival, but neither of them knew much about the other, nor had there been any effort on either of their parts to find out.

Given the confirmation that the bond would, in fact, remain, as per the Undertaker's words, it would only do more harm to continue delaying the inevitable. As it stood, his concentration was beginning take effort, the link making it nearly impossible to think properly when she was not in the same room. She did not seem to be affected to the same length as he was, but notable differences could be made when around one another.

He could breathe, not fretting over his mind wandering, and Mia seemed far more relaxed. Far from entirely at ease, however not nearly as uptight as she usually appeared to be.

"—Just as well, you will be needing some new clothes shortly. Tomorrow I must gather more groceries for upcoming events. One of which will be formal, and thrown by the Young Master this coming weekend."

Relief that had come quickly began ebbing away into utter horror. Formal events. Socializing. _People._ Dancing. The whole shebang. "_Oh no_."

Someone should not look so pleased with themselves while whisking _gravy_ in a bowl with flower patterns engraved into the side. Especially if that person was tall, dark, and demon. It wasn't right. Not at all.

"Oh, yes. A dress or two will certainly do you nicely, don't you agree?"

* * *

_A/N (8/21/14)_: Bam! You can't have a Black Butler fanfic without a ball. It's just not allowed. I should probably warn you guys that from here on out I'll be taking bits & pieces from the Kuroshitsuji **manga** ( which you can read online, or on mobile for _free_! i'll put a link in my profile ) to incorporate into the story, as it'll give me more to work with than the anime which is only on the circus arc. Some things _may_ be different simply for the sake of the story, but If you don't mind that, then awesome! If you don't want to be spoiled for anything that may happen in the anime in the future, I recommend reading the Phanthomhive Murders arc— which will otherwise be known as Book of Murder, to be released as an OVA this Fall.

In general I honestly recommend reading the manga, because it's great, and there are so many sources online to read it, there's no reason not to, really. I'm also excited because almost four hundred people have checked out this story; that's pretty crazy in my opinion. But awesome! I have some exciting things planned, and as always, if you like what you've read please leave a review. uwu

_Stay tuned for the next chapter!_


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